You may have noticed very few posts lately. In fact there have been none. It’s not that I didn’t try to write at first. There were a few attempts at putting thoughts down. But they never seemed to take the turn I’d hoped they would. Instead they looked a lot (an awful lot) like somebody, a little lost, just trying to make sense of her world and her muddled head. They never really reached a point that felt worth sharing. Or became too raw and too personal to splash about. (Maybe one day I’ll dip into them – who knows?)
Then there was a whole lot of nothing. No inspiration would come at all.
And since this writing thing is done because I believe He would have me do it, I asked Him what should be said. He was very quiet on the matter. I sensed the need to hush, be still - not put so much pressure on myself. To trust that when the time was right, the words would come.
There was one small word that came and sat. It seemed to disappear there for awhile. Though if I think about it, it never really did. I’ve opened my eyes and noticed it quietly peeping round the corner at me lately. Winking, willing curiosity to come and see.
It’s always so hard for me to start again, to find my rhythm. When I do not know what to say or how to feel, I write a letter. The music always finds me there.
Dear Sweet You,
You asked us, the other month, if we had a word for this coming year.
You had one – and others in the conversation had one too. I was happy for you all, really. But I didn't. At least, not yet.
At the end of last year a different somebody asked me what I wanted from the New Year.
My honest answer? To survive.
Said out loud it sounded so hollow and sad. But what I really meant was, I’d like to get my act together. To actually put in place a little daily plan. To feel as if something has been accomplished. To cope. To rise above. To find joy again …
The more I thought about it, the more I envisioned myself doing these things. The more I wanted to do these things. The more I allowed myself to believe in the possibilities.
I dared to dream once more - for more than survival. I wanted to live.
Life got in the way. I dropped the vision somewhere in a rut. It all seemed too hard, too much, too unattainable.
But I haven’t given up. I can’t. I won’t. Sometimes, I am learning, I just need to rest. In the circumstance – and in Him.
Slowly but surely progress is happening. The difficult is becoming easier. Or at least making more sense. I am learning new things, I am growing, I am in fact more alive than I had realised…
and, I have hope.
Thank you so much for asking!