I do miss writing here. I felt professional. I will pop in at times with some of my musings. Today is one of them.
Random or maybe not so random thoughts fill me as I'm doing more than just working. When I was asked to work a little more, my breath shuts off. I didn't want to feel obligated to the people. I don't want to see them abandoned, either. Oh, don't tug at my heartstrings.
A day off yesterday filled with life. Book sale at nine in the morning at the Community Library. I fear as I gaze over the fiction paper back shelf, my book will be there for fifty cents. I survey all the books and wonder about being reduced to a sale, which before I loved. I ponder why do we write? A charity sale strengthens the library and reading. I don't see my novel.
The library opened at ten. I build my legs taking the stairs, because of the rain, I think I won't walk that day. I stride over to the computer and look up Summer Triangle. It is there and it is out in circulation. That feels better than seeing on the shelf of new fiction or Local Author. I plead, "Write a review on Amazon," in my heart to the unknown reader.
I love reading, so I sit with my daughter's stuffed book pack, while she roamed the library. In my morning hurry, I had forgotten my reading glasses. Reading became less pleasurable, but still enlightening. I remember how much I love The Vindicator, Youngstown's morning paper.
I make a lunch at home, eat it and find keeping my eyes open near impossible. I lay down for a forty minute nap. Then I dive into dishes and cleaning the kitchen. I think how Jesus healed Peter's mother-in-law. He took her hand and as she got up, the fever left her-Mark 1: 30-31. And then she prepared them supper. I have to get up to shake off the depression that lingers and grips our house at times. The sun came out, too.
Harrison and I took two walks in that many days, getting back in shape. This morning, I thought of poetry and story. We have enough teaching and preaching. As a writer, I need to reach hearts and feelings. I believe that is why the poetry flowed into me to flow into you. Also, Anita and Matt, in their blogs.
So I leave you with my bit of prose from my walk, "We found the shade of the pines, the only trees offering shade in early spring. The dancing sunlight over the soft brown carpet is the stained glass of the natural cathedral." Rest and fill your heart with Jesus.