Many people have told me that they highly value words from those they love. Spoken and written. Even just the writing. I am like that too. I’ve kept all letters since I was 5 (meaning almost every letter I’ve gotten in my life); I especially cherish those containing words of love and encouragement, or anything where the person writing is clearly writing from the heart; I cringe even to throw away post-it notes left on my door by my housemate. “Have a good weekend!” Anyone can write that or say that. But this was her, on that particular weekend, writing with her own hand. As much as one may bring up the clichéd saying “a picture is worth a thousand words,” words do hold their own. Even the cliché says something entirely different from the supposedly worthy picture it references.
That is why it makes sense to me that if God were to express his love in a way that allows all people something concrete to hold on to, it would be in words.
[Yet why don’t I read those words voraciously?]