i used to hold steadfast to this philosophy: one should write everyday. but in the last couple years (the post-YWAM years) i've felt like i have nothing to say. after hunching over dirty, rubberbanded journals in africa, dripping sweat and tears, scrawling sun-scorched poetry - well, the gray, slushy iowa days don't beget the same level of inspiration. this should not be an excuse, but it is.
truly, i am living in the happiest iowan days i've ever known. but the simplicity and sweet ease of days coming and going do not always make for the best writing. we all know the great writers nursed tortured souls, chained by conflict, extremes, and addictions. and in this period of goodness, this season of plenty, i have a gnawing hunch that days of difficulty are not far off (in this world you WILL have trouble) so i wait, poised, pen-in-hand, for the trigger to go off.
but i have realized something. in these good seasons of life, in these graceful moments of respite, are where the good habits need to be pursued and developed. habits of giving, of opening up, of taking care - habits for me personally that include spending time with God, exercising, flossing, reading, and writing. things that detox my soul (well... flossing may or may not do this, but i really wish i could get into flossing so i'm including it here). if i create good patterns now, then hopefully, in those dark and desperate moments, i will turn to healthy, life-regenerating activities to get through.
okay. good. i wrote something.
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