This morning, I woke up to a work email that wasn’t about work at all. It was a slice of life from a colleague. Even though our school community is sharing slices this month, this one was meant just for me. She had mentioned it earlier in the week during bus duty, how she had written to process some big feelings. “This is not to publish,” the email said, “but as you have always told me—writing is power.”
My eyes welled the first time I read her words, and again as I reread them.
On Thursday, my sister will turn forty. Nearly twenty years ago, she moved to North Carolina to begin her life as an Army wife. Today, I sat down to write her a birthday letter—and once again, the tears came. As I wrote, I found myself reaching for words big enough to hold everything I want her to know, everything I wish she could feel if I could wrap my arms around her on her birthday.
Today, the words blur on the page, but they are holding me steady all the same.
“Writing is power.”
Where There Is Joy 
Jess, I love how your colleague carried your words with her—“writing is power”—and trusted them enough to write through something hard. That kind of ripple feels so meaningful. And then to see you turn to writing for your sister, holding both love and tears on the page, makes it even more powerful.
Thursday was a tough day for me at work, and I felt the urge to write it down to process, but because of the challenge, I decided not to; but I guess I should have, not to share it but because my soul needed it. Maybe I still can. Thank you for this!
LikeLike