Years ago a friend told me that I needed to see my blog as my writing workshop: write and write and see what sticks, both personally and with my audience. And after years of writing and sharing and writing some more, I’m finally seeing the bigger picture of that writing workshop.
Maybe I Missed the Snow Too
But right now I’m going to revel in the beauty of a winter wonderland. I’m going to treasure the memory of my kids playing together outside yesterday as the snow blew around them. I’m going to continue to giggle over my son’s concern about the twilight glow of lights reflecting off of the white surface long after the sun has gone down. I’m going to enjoy the sight of sunshine reflecting off of the snow after the clouds have cleared.
The Phoenix Leaving the Wilderness
I have spent the last year in the wilderness, watching the old me burn to ashes so that I could be reborn into something that is still me, but better. But the wilderness doesn’t have to be a place of desolation, it can be a place of growth that we often cannot see until we are safely back at home. And now the phoenix is once again learning to take flight, ready to leave the wilderness for something better than was there before. As scary as that unknown is, I’m ready to see where it will fly next.
I Started a Year of Healing With COVID
my classroom and jumping at every sniffle and cough, I was now exiled to one room of my house, only leaving on occasion with a mask covering my face and unable to hug my babies and sleep next to my husband.
A Faint Light In the Darkness
But as I prepare to exit 2021, I’m realizing that maybe my choice of the word “light” was really less about what I was going to do during the past year and more about what God was going to do for me through the light of others. In a year that was completely unexpected, I can finally see the faint glimmer of light at the end of the dark tunnel. It’s not fading; it’s growing.
They Are Just Children In Adult Bodies
When I watch high school and college athletics, I see children. I see children with adult bodies and adolescent brains trying to achieve great things. When they lose, I see their pain and heartbreak and hurt for them, even when it’s the opposing team. (And yes, that even included the Ohio State players that I watched crumble in the final moments of their first loss in ten years to Michigan.) When they win, I remember that it’s not my victory, but theirs, and they are just letting the rest of us celebrate with them.