It’s been nearly two weeks since I gave up my fiction writing, this after a long discussion with God over whether that word was really from Him or not.
It’s been a long two weeks.
Last night I jokingly questioned whether God was serious about this. He is.
And that’s a good thing.
As I think through the events of the last ten days, I have tried to imagine how I’d be if I had continued to cope by writing. I honestly don’t think I’d be handling things as well.
I suppose it could be argued that I should have listened to God right away, back in October and November. I suppose, but it would be a moot point, eh?
I do know that now I am navigating the pain with much more peace than I did before. I guess that’s maturity. I just know that it feels better, more focused.
This morning, though, I woke up in a fog. My brain fuzzy and buzzing, as if it doesn’t know what to do with itself. It will learn. It just needs to work out whatever “muscles” normal people have to help them cope with the things life throws at them.
In the meantime, there are people to be prayed for, gardens to be planted, organizing to be done.
Have a Happy Saturday everyone. 🙂