I had a voice…we are all born with one.
My prayers had authority. Now not so much.
I struggle for words a fair bit…
Why has the power gone from my lips when I used to swing king-hits with words that swung like sword blows and carved a way for light to penetrate and send the darkness running. Why can’t I pray like I used to?
Perhaps it’s not an issue of authority but identity.
I’ve been stripped back and rebuilt.
I’m learning who this girl is..where she stands and how to speak.
So far in ink, I found my tongue. But in breath and noise, still learning.