All Roads Lead to Writing

When every song on my ipod, every artist I select, every sermon outline fill-in-the-blank, every instruction I am given (even my kids' devotionals) compel me with another idea to post, it must be a sign. Get back to blogging!

The summer was long. My daughter switched to a new high school giving her 3 full months and an overdose of vacation and staycation. We had a trip to the east coast that afforded great family memories afterward but, in the moment was stress-filled requiring a double dose of attitude adjustment. Reid had the month of August off with no school routine to keep us plugged in. Need I say more? Whether or not you noticed, I have unknowingly kicked the habit of daily posting.

I'm back in the saddle though, as of now! I've been stashing notes in a book stand on my kitchen counter. It is jammed with experiences to process from the summer each on their own little slip of paper or in the margin of a church program. It is motivating to think I will not run out of material but rather have a storehouse of observations to unload. In her book, Writing to Change the World, which I absolutely love (I don't think there is a page I have NOT dogeared), Mary Pipher encourages writers to go ahead and say it, "I'm a writer." Often, we are the ones with the introverted temperament who procrastinate and need a push to take the little leap of faith to dive in and commit to that as a professional title. That is me.

The longer I avoid writing, the more slips of paper accumulate. What's even more annoying, more and more mundane events beckon me back to the keyboard. Listening to instrumental music walking the dog, I can't help myself from composing illustrations about life and autism. Metaphors are cutting me off in traffic on the freeway of my mind. At my piano lesson, my substitute teacher (not even Angela) explained how I might improve my phrasing on Ecossaise in C by Beethoven. Without realizing it, her words were a metaphor for my month with Reid at home 24/7. I give him instructions in pianissimo then repeat them in a crescendo with only slight variation again until it is forte. Then I back off in resignation before the D.C. al fine as if to replay the request. I didn't have to think too long to implement her suggestion that I envision a storyline while I play. It all comes back to autism. My life has become a spiritual journey through (not to) autism. You may think, autism, schmatism. (That's another great blog name that's been taken.) I say, it's all good!



What do all your roads lead to? A new house...an obvious mate...the decision to adopt...persistent nudges to a certain project....to say "no" to something...

Could this be one of the ways God speaks to us? Like the insistent prayer of the widow in Luke 18, maybe His Holy Spirit is modeling prayer for us prodding and poking, divinely texting and twittering us with reminders to complete the plans he has for us.


"For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, 'Even though I don't fear God or care about men, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won't eventually wear me out with her coming!' " Luke 18:4-5


"We write this to make our joy complete." 1 John 1:3-5


"Since you are my rock and my fortress, for the sake of your name lead and guide me." Psalm 31:2-4