Nothing To Write, A Lot To Think About
It's not that my life has been all that boring these past few weeks, afterall, I enjoyed a lovely vacation (see my Flickr for the assorted pictures). Work was slow, but I had increased responsibility with my boss on bereavement for three weeks.
Last week was my church's Vacation Bible School and I was quite involved with the technical aspects of the opening and closing programs every evening.
Saturday, a few of us drove out to Covina for our Junior Camp counselor training and leadership meeting. The persistent heatwave made the trek nearly unbearable (107 degrees F).
Yesterday, I spent the morning at the hospital undergoing some testing. While it was largely painless (I was sedated throughout) and not a normal procedure for a person of my age, it helped to allay some of my fears I had concerning my health and whether I was actually facing a serious disease.
All of these "events" had varying types and degrees of emotion attached to them. Some were regular and routine; my vacation was relaxing and enjoyable. My hospital visit produced anxiety in anticipation of the unknown, then relief. Other experiences were frustrating, boring while another event gave a sense of accomplishment.
I could've blogged about any or all of them as they happened, yet I couldn't quite seem to find the words to write in the moment. Part of the reason I suppose is that I really am an analytic- if I can't analyze a situation to completion in my thoughts first, it will never make to paper (or in this case, to computer). My blog perhaps is an imperfect representaion of my walk with God -there are times that I have words to say to Him and sometimes we walk together quietly. In any case, He is always there and I am always thinking. He speaks to my thoughts (no I don't mean that God tells me this and that per se) and I listen. There are times when I pretend that my thoughts are my own, but that is ridiculous, of course He knows. And this is where the representation or the metaphor breaks down - my blog is limited by my exercise, or lack of exercise, of language, God of course is not. He knows the "thoughts and intents of my heart." My blog readers do not and are dependent on my writing truthfully to read what's inside me. So although much has happened, the language is/was not there.