Maybe it’s because it’s Fall, but I’m just going to go ahead and put down some meandering words on the page/screen. I hope that’s okay with you. Truth is, I will always have a soft spot for the old-school way of doing things, when blogging was a new thing and we were all getting our feet wet and we were taking pictures and getting to know each other and we weren’t so worried about what we had to do as bloggers. Instead we focused on what we get to do.
I’ve been sitting down with people, to talk about the book, and all this talking about the book has made me realize the back-story of the book is its own sort of story. Writing a book happens in the midst of your life. While the bills are coming in and the children are sick and the roof is leaking and the dog keeps throwing up on the throw rugs and you’re still draping your leg over his in the dark. The words don’t always get to be first. They hardly ever get to be first.
If we’re lucky, we live out the heart of the words in the ordinary stuff of our every day lives. But we don’t necessarily get to focus on the writing of the words, because time keeps marching on and there are people to see and places to go and checkbooks to balance and wine and bread to be consumed.
In the middle of the life you’re living, sits this idea of something you’d like to do, somewhere out there in the future. Maybe it’s a dream, or an adventure, or an enterprise, or a hope. But it’s out there, underneath the layers of all the other things that stand up tall right now and keep your focus pulled in tightly. That future thing seems out of reach, and maybe it is for now.
But time keeps marching on, and one day, the future thing and the you that you are or will be on some day to come, will find your paths crossing and you’ll be living smack dab in the middle of the reality of that thing. You might have to pinch yourself, because you didn’t really think it could ever happen. Even though you saved or studied or sacrificed or spoke soft words of encouragement to yourself through the tight weave of the grosgrain of your ordinary days, you might not have been fully convinced.
Mostly, things change incrementally. We barely notice it, until we have to buy new shoes for our toddlers or cut back a branch on a tree or decide to go ahead and let the gray take over. But it’s happening. Bit by bit, in the midst of all the ordinary that we might be tempted to wish away on the days when child’s pose is what we feel like doing more than anything, we are moving in the direction of our dream come true.
Peace on earth. Thy Kingdom come. We are not so far from your shores. Can you hear our heartbeat? Can you sense us drawing near? We have not lost sight, even in the midst of our ordinary days — especially in the midst of these days upon days.