"...if these walls could sing..." *
...They would tell how I pour over my devotionals late at night, asking God to convince me this trial has a Purpose.
...They would tell how my laundry piles up when I'm in the most pain, because I can't bend over to load it and wash it, and I won't let my mom do it because I hate looking like an invalid.
...They would tell how, when I feel good and my headache has retreated, I dance around my room to waltzes, the radio, silence, or whatever I happen to be humming at the time.
...They would tell how, when I hurt the most, I sit and stare out my window at the neighbors' rose garden, or at the canning jar terrarium I made in 7th grade.
...They would tell of all the songs I sing to myself when I'm home alone, the musicals, the rock songs I really can't pull off, the operas, the hymns, and the ones I make up as I sing them.
...They would tell how often I've read through my two tall bookshelves, especially those nights I couldn't get to sleep.
...They would tell how I fill all the black-and-white composition books with my sadnesses and joys, my longings, my loneliness and euphoria, my hopes and my prayers.
...They would tell how I feel when my friends take time to show they care. How I close my eyes and despair of a way to reciprocate the love they show me.
...They could tell how I toss and turn at night, waiting for my brain to stop talking so I can maybe - just maybe - get a little rest.
...They could tell how sometimes, my pills go in the trash or down the toilet because I hate the thought of drugs coursing through my already messed up body.
...They could tell how often I put books on CD on repeat so I can escape.
...They could tell how I have out-loud conversations with the voices in my head.
Love Believes All Things,
* From the song "Audrey, Start The Revolution" by Anberlin