Oct 28, 2009
There are days that I wish writing was not an art that must be crafted, shaped and practiced. I cannot begin to count the times when I have approached a blank page, full of head and heart-material to pour out, like paint, and still felt so restricted by my own lack of words to share. Writing is so much more meaningful to me than a means of informing--it is an invitation for my audience to pull up a chair, grab some coffee and share in little or much I have to offer. And recently, I've found myself hesitating to write at all, for fear that what I do put down fall so short as narrative to the life I find myself suspended in. And even so, a part of me still begs for words, and I've learned better than to deny that longing.
Now here I am, just over two months into life as a college student and a New Orleanian-in-the-making. I would be lying if I said that life in this moment is all that I had ever dreamed it would be, but I will say that life in this moment is wonderful and rarely dull. I'm learning, daily, to love my campus, my city and my Papa at deeper and (at what sometimes feel like) invasive levels. At times it's taken digging and searching to find treasures hidden for me here in NOLA, and I've come to rejoice in that. Because, in the midst of the chaos that frequently taints life around me, I'm finding refuge, peace and hope extravagant in the steady rise-and-fall of the breast of Him as I lean in for more (knowing and trusting that He will come through with abundance).
And I thank you now for grace and patience as I once again find my footing in the blog-world. Admittedly, I feel a little off-step writing again, but hope to soon find a rhythm and dance to keep things lively around here...
Grace and peace to you.