Write Something Beautiful Today

The blog has been quiet...much going on here in Mid-Morning land...

First I was quiet because Lynne's sweet mother was so sick and in her last hours and it seemed nothing I had to say bore the importance of the goodbye she was saying, so I said nothing at all.

Then I was quiet because we were in the throes of SHARE, our annual fundraiser (since we're a commercial-free station, we operate entirely on what we can raise through partnership with our listenerss) and I spent all my hours at the phone and not at my desk where I could blog.

Then I was quiet because I was SICK. Have y'all had the nasty that's going around right now? Don't get it if you can help it. Not. Worth. It.

And now I'm back with a thousand thoughts in my head and only this very small space to spill them.

I go back to a tweet I saw last week by Karen Kingsbury:

An empty page lies ahead...write something beautiful today.

 

We've been on this theme this year - of writing our stories - of allowing God the freedom to write our stories.

 

And what a joy to know we can make it beautiful.

 

I have to admit...there have been pieces of life lately that haven't felt so beautiful.

 

This person says something that cuts deeply into my heart...so deeply that I know the words are going to leave a scar even though the wound appears to be too fresh to tell its lasting impact. But I've been hurt like that before and I know...it scars. And I want to lash our with scarring words of my own - or at the very least, a giant announcement that WHAT YOU SAID HURT ME! But I don't. I sit and watch the wound to see if it really will, as I fear, scar.

 

That person does something that confuses me so profoundly that I have no idea what the proper reaction should even be. It's uncharted territory and I don't know what to do. And there's no manual to read...

 

In those moments, I want to go to those people and tell them that their choices of ink on page are affecting my story. Chances are good they've not considered that.

 

But then I remember that I'm not given the pens to everyone else's stories. Just my own.

 

And I need to remember: it's up to me to write something beautiful today.

(Thanks, Karen, for the reminder!)