My writer muscles feel tight, like they are bogged up with something. Like I haven’t stretched. Like someone poured molasses into the back of the clock where the tiny machine spins and turns and clicks and now it’s forgotten how to chime. I can chime everywhere but here lately.
God said I was over-analyzing my gifts, trying to cut and slice things that cannot be cut or sliced. I practically heard it audibly. So I slow down. I listen.
Those whispers, God breezes. God epiphanies. The ones that maybe cannot be figured out. They just are.
I woke today and felt like celebrating. My husband said, “me too! wait, why are we celebrating?” and I realized I’ve been feeling celebratory all week for no specific reason and for all the reasons. Also, it happen to be Friday, which is my favorite of the M-F variety.
A life long card carrying member of the Night Owl Club, I just recently turned in my card and am attempting to join the Morning Person Club. Every night but once this week I was in bed early enough to feel human in the morning. And the baby no longer wakes at night (glory of glories!) and since she is the last baby around these parts I feel a new beginning coming on. A healthy season, finally. A joy season, completely.
We’ll see how much extra sleep helps in the writing department, but I think it’s going to be a Really Big Change.
I have been chiming elsewhere, as I mentioned, and in case you missed it here are the recent posts at Simple Design and Disney Baby you may enjoy: