Lost In India

My words have become lost

The home they have known is no longer where they rest

Notes filled with prophetic pictures describing who I am

Words describing my past few months and depicting the scenes
that are forever etched on my heart

Moments I fear that I will forget the taste of

Something I have had to give to God

Something I have had to trust He will not let my heart
forget

Words no longer within my grasp, not since losing my journal
in India

As I started to deal with the thought of losing my journal
and the notes written to me while on this journey, I started to fear that I
would also lose the memory of where my heart has traveled and the new
definition my soul has taken on.

“I will not let you forget this”

As I continually had to let go of my emotional ties to my
journal and the comfort in knowing my hearts voice was documented if ever I
needed to be reminded of its character, God started to ask me to tell Him who I was.

I was faced with moments of standing strong in my hearts
identity

Not in a prideful way that outwardly makes a point to its
qualities

Just inwardly, to God

A two way conversation

Sometimes he reminded me how he created my heart and assured
me that I was walking as the woman he made me to be

Other times he would pose a question and I would have to
confirm that I understood who I am and that I didn’t need to hear it from other
sources. I had understood, but now had to stand confident in the assurance that
sources outside of Him were not going to define my heart.

Slowly

He reminded me that I did not need a journal to tell me who
I am

Or where I have been

My words are lost in India

But, the description of my hearts
creation has never been so clearly within my grasp

The crazy thing…

The description of who I was created to be will never be
complete

I hope to never be a defined identity

I hope to never be someone who has reached their definition

Done being written