Stuck in a Moment

While I’ve felt pressure to get on here and let whoever’s reading know where I’ve gone, I haven’t known what to say, nor had the energy to say it. Having such a small blog, isn’t it a silly thing to say in the first place?

However few, you matter much to me. Without a reader, words stand still. Since you are my partner in creation, I think you deserve to know where I’ve gone.

I joined National Novel Writing Month! Then, almost as quickly as I signed up, my words ran away.

I’ve written about 3,000 of the required 50,000 words. I thought I had a book in me, but when I sit down to write I am lost. To try to get to 50,000 words, there is no capacity left to post to a blog. I don’t know how to do both, but one thing I know for sure; it has been the busiest month of my life, ever. We are going to cut out some things for the month of December because I can’t breathe.

Journal

I’m stuck in a long moment. I think it’s been 5 weeks since I’ve posted anything. Interestingly enough, my last post was about asking for brokenness, and there is some.

I offer you my thanks and apologies. Thanks for sticking with me, for comments and telling me you’re there. Apologies for my inconsistency and inability to make this more than it is. My goal and vision for staying here is to inspire a few of you to see the story differently, empowering you to live life in Christ with a fresh vision and joy and the ability to imagine what’s true, but not yet seen.

I not only pop up today to say, “Hey, I’m here, stick around,” but really to express that I think this period of silence has a purpose. After 5 weeks of not posting and feeling incapable and empty, it dawned on me that this is necessary. It makes sense to need to be hands-off for a while and come back to the reality that this art is not all mine nor all up to me. Sometimes we need to sit back and let the substance of life fall around us before we have something to work from. I think that’s where I’m at right now.

To save yourself the need to keep checking back, use the subscribe button at the top right, or add this spot to your Feedly. I will go on with my life, studying planets and stars and the French Revolution with my children. You will do your thing too and still be notified when I have some pieces of life to share!

Thank you friends,

Keri

When Boredom has a Place

Everyone is still asleep and I am writing.  Well, staring at the keypad is more like it.

Maybe I should quit blogging.  The end of the road has come when I’m barely off the ground.  I was afraid of this.

I click around, read some things, check the next module in my writing course.  Before long, the sun is peeking and a small body draped in hand-me-down silk finds me on the couch.

“Mommy, can I play the tablet?”

“No honey, we don’t play the tablet in the morning remember?”

A few minutes go by . . .

 Nightie

“Mommy, can I please play the tablet?”

“You asked me before and I answered you.  My answer is the same.  We don’t start our day with tablet games.  Find something else to do.”

She gave it one or two more tries and I answered the same, but was tempted to give in.  I gave her a couple options which she didn’t like, but I left her to figure it out.  It’s tough to let boredom work itself out, but before long she is coloring and cutting and I’m still here with my keypad, . . . kinda bored.

I’m waiting, watching, listening for something . . . and I realize those little feet dragging a little nightie around gave me something.  That searching little voice, needing forced into creativity by sitting in her boredom, was just the inspiration I woke up for today.

Waiting for Something?

Walking between mounds of Azalea last month, I spotted a butterfly fluttering in and out. I poised with my lense in action mode. The butterfly disappeared, came back, and disappeared again. At some point in all of that, I got this shot.

Butterfly

This morning I sat at my desk and thought. I’ve thought for days now and nothing has happened. I’ve looked at my moment with the butterfly and wondered what it means.

I’m not professional, but I think I know one thing about those who are. They know how to wait. As they wait for the inspiration, they are present and active in their work. Waiting ready rewards them with their best.

My camera in sports mode is a great help in waiting for a shot. At a desk with a blinking cursor between nonsensical paragraphs and head banging the desk, no technology shortens the wait. But I’m doing something. I’m showing up day after day, moving my fingers with uncertain outcomes. I’m actively waiting.

I’m not the only one.

I bet you’re waiting for something. Waiting for the day you figure out how to be organized? How to stop getting angry? How to care for your family? How to succeed at a dream you’ve had your whole life? Have you considered you’re not the only one waiting?

There’s an Artist waiting to bless our flitting souls. For us to come out from behind the bush. He’s waiting poised and in action mode . . . for what?

To be gracious to you, have compassion on you, at just the right time. The God of beauty, love, art, actively waits, on you, His masterpiece.

Therefore the Lord longs to be gracious to you,
And therefore He waits on high to have compassion on you.
For the Lord is a God of justice;
How blessed are all those who long for Him.
Isaiah 30:18

Creative Time

We’re on the other side! . . . Of the world, that is.

plane

I didn’t drop in before departure because I was, well, occupied despite my unusually good planning and preparations!

My surprise for the girls was finished at 11pm and I rushed to bed to wake at 3:30 AM and head us all to the airport.

We’ve been here 5 full days, unpacked our stuff to not prolong living out of suitcases, and pretty much adjusted to the time.

So, a few days later than planned, I now present to you my impractical, somewhat-last-minute, and incredibly fun creations which I presented to the girls when they were bored and antsy to get on the “big plane” in Chicago . . .

rolls

roll layout

Claire roll

airport

I’m tickled with how these turned out.  The day before departure, I had to go back to the store for one last piece of fabric.  I told the fabric lady when she asked what I was making, “I’m so excited I could explode!”

When’s the last time you’ve been that excited with creating something?  Leave a comment and tell me about it!

If you haven’t been that excited for a while, maybe it’s time to make something, anything?  It’s a small way of partaking in the joy our Creator must have been feeling when what He made was “very good.”

For Colored Pencil Roll Pattern by Kathy Mack, visit her online at Pink Chalk Fabrics 

Skimming the Deep

Sometimes my thoughts are too much to handle.  As I write them, I feel weight.  Maybe they wouldn’t weigh as much if I didn’t post them out in space where “who knows?” is reading.  But even my journals, that only I have read, have been weighty at times so that’s probably not what I’m burdened with.

Weighty

The “Whos” in my own “Whoville,” they must be what I’m afraid of.  The ones who know me, but also don’t.  They don’t get the depths of my heart unless its the right time and place.  When they do, I feel like I’m just a little weird.  So why do I have this bulging need to write if my thoughts are weighty and, for some, a little weird?  There’s something that still wants out.

Writing is an exposing art, if you are writing the truth.  Could be I don’t like the truth about me.  I’m a dreamer.  I’m not content with looking at life from the surface.  I like the deep places, but sometimes they’re scary (there’s some yucky, slimy things down deep), or just . . . weighty.

The sea too has some scary things in it and the further you go, the water weighs down, even crushes.  It consists of depths which have yet to be discovered and I don’t believe all ever will be.  There are “jewels” hidden that have been seen and enjoyed only by the eyes of God.

Jewels

Is that the way with my heart?  Are their jewels there I will never find?  Are they there just for Him?  Does He find pleasure there?  I’ve heard He has set eternity there . . . Is that how deep my heart really goes?  So I will never understand it?

Or is it that deep so that I will keep searching?

My thoughts even before I write weigh down and my words are lacking, only skimming the foam of the waves.  There is more down under I am unable to mine.  With the weight and few words, why write?

beach

In this moment, as I write, I know why.

I mine the depths of a heart that’s never completely been my own.  And when you know there’s more to it there’s a reason to keep searching.  Have we ever had to be told there’s more?

Diving

Eternity is long and to have the joy of seeking His treasure for just as long gives me courage to keep facing my deep yet incomplete thoughts.  After all, the more I dive, the more I discover, not of myself, but of the Captain of the Sea.

Psalm 107:23-24  
Those who go down to the sea in ships, 
Who do business on great waters;
They have seen the works of The Lord
And His wonders in the deep

 

Ecclesiastes 3:11
He has made everything appropriate in its time.  He has also set eternity in their heart, yet so that man will not find out the work which God has done from the beginning even to the end.