It’s one of those mornings where I wish sarcasm font was an actual thing. That way I could type in it and let the pith flow. Instead, I’m typing in boring old Georgia font, size… 11? And writing about sarcasm. However, I think I should get points for using the word profundity, yes?
I’ve had a lot of time to myself this weekend. I’ve been processing and thinking about life and things. This is usually never a good idea, especially since I’m a verbal processor and Bernerd just stares at me when I talk to him, thinking it’s an invitation to jump on me and get a good tummy rub. Plus my mother is on vacation, so the amount that I’m able to process is limited anyway.
But here we are, dear readers, and I feel a violent fountain of words rumbling beneath my finger tips. There are so many things I want to talk about – and will talk about, in good time. Things like women in leadership and what being a disciple really means, art, beauty, church, laughing, reading… all of it!
And yet, I’m stuck. For though there are many words, and they are violent, they merely rumble. Sometimes the enormity of what I think and feel seems like drowning. There’s no cohesion or rhythm to my brain. Only scattered thoughts, words, and letters. I don’t want to write just to slap words on paper or screen and just to say I wrote something. I want my words to matter, to mean something, to inspire. Which is why they’re probably still rumbling. But when the explosion comes, watch out.
For today, however, I leave you with this quote… some thing to ponder and to chew on as we all write and struggle to express ourselves and find our voices: