Faded blue ink marks like indefinite scars on these simple white sheets that wrap my frame quietly in hopes I might find rest… and I kind of like their presence. In fact, when I first noticed them {those little faded marks}, the right side of my grin seemed to grow just a little bit wider. I look sideways from my pillow at them, wondering at the silliness of it all. Yes, I think I like them.

I fall asleep often just like this; my journal making crevasses along my cheek while my hand finally finds rests with pen in tow. Maybe it’s the strange form of a teddy bear for a writer? I wonder. It seems I can’t help but find myself here, or there, where He talks with me, and I want nothing in the world but to listen to Him. Like pillow talk pure and sweet for a Savior and this messy little lady, I’ll find myself first all wrapped up in Him. Then, write it down so quick so I won’t ever forget… it’s all so easy to forget.

Like secrets and stories, the struggle and His Glory. Let this whole world pass me by while we talk for a while before I drift into dreams ’round His secrets and our stories fading blue like the ink leaving indefinite marks on my bed. I’d like to think it leaves more than blue ink. I’m sure they represent little to you, but these scars look more like wisdom, forgiveness and love to me. They look like friendship and inspiration… and honestly they look a little like the growing freedom I see.

And yes, these little marks {these scars, these faded marks}, I think I like them.