And sometimes, the same thing happens when I visit some of your blogs. I read your thoughts and marvel, and begin to formulate great replies, but then the words don’t make it to the keyboard. That’s when I wish your monitor were a window, too. And I could tap on the glass with my nail-bitten finger and wave when you looked up. I’m still here, looking in on you.
Then I stopped to think about what I have been doing instead of writing, and I realized the time away from words may have actually been a gift. The past few months have afforded me hundreds of hours outside planting flowers, mowing grass, picking tomoatoes, and spreading mulch. My dog, Precious, and I have logged many laps around the park and the neighborhood, and my new bicycle has joined the 200 mile club (or at least qualifies if there were such an organization). I have laughed hard and cried hard. Some of my relationships with people have deepened to a new level, and others have drifted away.
It’s fall now, and I’ve been thinking in paragraphs again. A good sign that the words should be back soon. But in the meantime, these experiences have provided a hidden window that the words could not. As I looked through them, I saw the Lord and He has seen me.
Though painful, at times, and a bit unusual, it’s been a worthwhile season.