I’ve taken a bit of a hiatus from writing…anything. I’ve blamed it on the frenetic pace of family life but truthfully I’ve been avoiding it. Because writing, even just a 300-word piece, is hard work. “The Idea” might be germinating but it’s hazy, almost reachable, and then the tyranny of the urgent takes over and “The Idea” gets shelved along with the organic tomato sauce in the back of the pantry. Soon the proverbial pantry shelves are full and I’m overwhelmed and then it’s just easier to clean out the junk drawer (the real one, I mean) than to delve into the hard work of taking ideas and putting them to words. There’s instant satisfaction and much less sweat and tears in the junk drawer project. But an organized drawer doesn’t contribute anything to the world. And I think that we were meant to contribute. I love Shauna Niequist’s words…
“We create because we were made to create, having been made in the image of God, whose first role was Creator. He was and is a million different things, but in the beginning, he was a creator. That means something for us, I think. We were made to be the things that he is: forgivers, redeemers, second chance-givers, truth-tellers, hope-bringers. And we were certainly, absolutely made to be creators. If you were made to create, you won’t feel whole and healthy and alive until you do.”
Blair told me one evening not too long ago that he would love to come home to a messy house, piled up laundry and have to order take out for supper because I’d been writing all day. He’d better be careful what he wishes for.
So…here’s to feeling whole and healthy and alive. And ordering dinner in.