So here I am, world. Do you care? Do you not care? Could you care any less?
Writing is the desire of my heart and it has been for a long, long time. Sadly, I rarely have time to do it except for at 11:52 pm on a Friday night, apparently. Fear, lack of time, blank page syndrome – I’ve got every reason in the world not to. So, why? Because it just feels right. It’s just what I’m supposed to do and I feel in my blood. This is coming out so very melodramatically and that is not my intention. I just love what I love and I love to write.
Here will be thoughts, ideas, starts to books, starts to paragraphs, memories, dreams, and the like. And all of it will be gold, pure gold, I tell ya…
So, I have a percolating thought going on in the recesses of my brain. I live for the destination. I look forward to the end. I do all I can to survive a situation or time period and when I arrive at the end can scarcely recall what happened along the way. To sit in the sweet pain of uncertainty or loss or nervousness and let my body and mind soak in the marinade of life. This is my primary motivation. To grab on to the journey and allow it to be the destination. To slip in the mud and make mud pies for awhile instead of jumping up to wash off immediately. To release control (God forbid!) and let the current of the Holy Spirit sweep me away. That’s really what it comes down to. I don’t want to be so busy looking for the end of the road that I fail to enjoy the move of God in my life as I saunter along this path. Even the ditch on the side of the road serves a purpose, so why not sit in it once in awhile and ponder life from that perspective and ask yourself: “How are you enjoying the journey today?”