For the first time in many, many months I am sitting in a
Starbucks with nothing required of me.
I
can write if I want. About anything that fills my mind.
Bliss.
I considered all the different types of muse I might find about
which to pontificate. I considered the
music, books, movies I might review. I
considered the people, places and things which I might discuss.
After all is said and done, all my mind can conjure are the good
things in my life right now. My
angelbabies, my sons, my siblings, my friendships, the sunshine, the joy of
music sliding along my thoughts, the pattering words dancing in the
clouds. Good things. Those blessings stand in stark contrast to
the hard days of this season of my life.
I’ve come a long way in the last seven years. I remember dark, dark days when I asked God
why He didn’t just let me check out and come on home. But love held me here. Angelbaby kisses, friendship hugs, shouts of
encouragement from so many places. Those
rich relationships have me driving hither and yon using my last dimes to be
where they are to share just one more afternoon, one more cup of coffee, one
more chat with them.
After all, you never know when that door will close and I
love you cannot be exchanged again.
These seven years have had long winters full of snowy, rainy,
closed in days when gloomy clouds filled the sky. I cherish the feel of sun kissing my skin,
Vitamin D drenched moments when I soak up the warmth. Making like a snake and baking in the sun
never gets old to me. Nothing charges my
batteries more than sitting in the sun.
Thanks, God for sunshine.
Silence has shouted to me in these seven years, too. Profoundly still silence that shook the walls
with its resonance. Today, however, I
hear gently the sounds of music from angelbaby laughter, music made by those I’ve
watched grow. The lingering joy in this music makes my heart
smile.
All these things give me cause to write. The words will not remain tucked inside. They tug and pull and nag for my
attention. All these good things in my
life crowd out the quietness of this season.
I know what I would rather, but since I don’t have my druthers, I may as
well enjoy what I’ve been given.
Thanks, God, for time to consider the blessings and words
with which to share them.
And that, my friends, is what a writer thinks about when they are staring out of a coffee shop window with a laptop open before them and a coffee cooling beside them.
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A
Book of Pages About Crossing Bridges
or
A Friend Named Jesus,
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