I’ve had to keep the Clorox close here lately.
I’m currently sitting out back, across the yard from a boy, who is feeling quite ill.
If I may be so blunt, my friends….. this season has been ghastly.
Weeks and weeks of illnesses, all sorts and varieties, all of them from the pit of hell itself.
I almost feel like this is the terrible price I am paying for sending my children off for their education this semester. They have gained more germs than genius in the halls of that school.
Aside from the ailments my children have accrued in classrooms, I myself have not been particularly well since I last sat and spilled anything here. And I wasn’t exactly healthy before then either.
I am tired, on edge, and in a non-stop flurry of furious sanitizing.
All of the wear has left me a bit wordless. The crickets that have been chirping in this space have irked me. I want to be a steady beat when it comes to writing, but the lack of time and pause has kept me from my rhythm.
Where there is no rest – there are no words. It’s as simple as that. The same is true for any art form.
Creativity requires some quiet. And there has been none.
I had plans of sitting down here today to discuss a line with you from Browning’s Go from Me.
I read it a few eves ago, after my husband had found sleep and I hadn’t. It’s one of those pieces that leaves you drawing for air. One line in particular took me in.
When I read something that stirs me I feel compelled to share, but my mind needs more than a second’s rest to appropriately convey what Browning’s words stirred.
So, that will have to wait until I can gather myself again.
Please do join me in praying over our household, that health and well-being return, that hope finds its way to my heart, and that joy hangs ’round here a bit more often in the coming weeks.
Many thanks 🙂