The world is filled with a multitude of voices -- droning, shrieking, badgering, insisting, whispering, flaunting, taunting, announcing, trouncing, reflecting, directing, helping, hurting, assisting, confusing, clarifying, obscuring... sharing ideas, feelings, concepts, truth, and even madness. A world filled with speaking, and I, just one voice more. If I should speak, who would hear?
Have you ever felt that way? You have things in your heart to share, but with all these voices, all this noise, what's the use? You feel as if you are saying something so obvious it hardly bears repeating. What's the point? Is it foolishness? To be one more voice, insignificant as a drop of rain in the Rocky Mountains, for one vain moment dashing itself pitifully into the massive granite heart of a continent... A continent! One drop, exploding in useless splendor, colliding with a whole continent set in its ways. Is this not the ultimate futility?
Perhaps. But then again, perhaps there is a waiting seed, expectant, hungering, thirsting, languishing for that drop, that single drop of nourishment to gain the strength to break free from the confines of its tiny prison shell of self, to burst asunder the bonds of death and darkness, into life. As this seedling to sapling grows, it reaches up to grasp gloriously in daily snatches the light of life, rejoicing now that it, too, can fulfill its destiny and purpose in being.
So it is that the words we offer have the power to give hope and life. And our speaking is not in vain.