“If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write.”
I have been writing...a lot.
I usually get pen to paper. Ink flowing freely.
Thoughts about those I love.
Thoughts about those I have trouble loving.
Funny things that spring from the mouths of people I know.
Especially my children.
As tears fall hot from my eyes to the point where I can hardly write,
Ink mingling with paper moist and at ripping point,
I scribble words of fear, anger and anxiety.
My pen doodles flowers, swirls, hearts and owls.
I try to ponder things that bring me joy or at least a smirk to my face.
I glide the pen - always medium point - to record Scripture that I want to commit to memory.
I jot in margins things I need to do, buy, write and say.
I neatly list goals and dreams and things I want to DO in 2012.
I want to share all these things here - but I find that I can not. I share what is safe and even struggle with that.
I feel like I should be truly free to write words that need to come out - to let me fly - to really let me soar.
But I wait...

