This is Why

I haven't been blogging much lately.  My kids keep reminding me.  That they enjoy my blog is like a little piece of Dove chocolate melting on my tounge.  The thing about Dove chocolate is that it gets thick when it melts in my mouth.  The more it melts the thicker it gets.  It's like peanut butter but chocolate.  It lasts, and I like that.

I like that they like my blog.  I like that it's lasting for them.  That it brings them joy.  I try very hard not to embarrass them.  Unless I fail you will never see their flaws written here.  They were not given to me so that I could shame them. 

 I try to stay away from those things.  I fail miserably at times, but I still try.  And if I post it here for you on this little box of earthly eternal information, then I've inked it in time.  I've branded it into their memory.  Nope, not here.

Lately I've been tottering like that last leaf on the branch.  The wind has been howling and tugging hard, but I've hung on.  Scared to fall.  Scared about what might be waiting for me if I give in and swirl in some thoughts before hitting the cold hard bottom.

I sit to blog and all that comes out is white screen dotted with angry this or sad that.  I delete and start over to backspace and delete again.  I haven't been sure where it's coming from.  How can things be wrong when life is blessed?  I've felt Jesus sitting beside me like a guest on my sofa.  I make small talk as He smiles and nods, patiently waiting for me to shift uncomfortably for the last time and spill my heart.

The problem?  He's not a guest.  He's concrete and stud, framework and insulation, mortar and brick, finishing and cornerstone of my life.  I'm waiting, not so patiently, for Him to carry me through this season.  Safely to the other side.

Not a guest but the owner.  Not confusion but the answer.

This writing doesn't really make a lot of sense, does it?  I started off with a point I can't now remember and rambled myself to an ending I can't figure out how to word. 

Don't you think even Mozart sometimes wrote mediocre? 

This is it.  This is why my pages have been blank. Because I have thought what I have to say is not good enough 'cause I'm a little lost with y'all gone. 

So, my darlin's, this is why your mama has not been blogging.  Life gets strangely broken asunder sometimes, doesn't it? 

Sometimes someone you love is far away and you are lonely in a room full of loved ones. 

 Sometimes you're not sure what to do with a lifetime, what wire to bravely step onto and balance. 

 Sometimes people speak and we feel small and shamed. 

Sometimes our bodies hurt. 

Sometimes you need Mama to write your life letter on the back of your About Me. 

Sometimes you need your Daddy to bury your head.

Many times staying in bed sounds like a better plan than life. 

Sometimes it's just much and you need more something.  But your finger won't put on what.

Wait patiently till carried to the other side.  Answers will come.  Lonliness will become a memory.

I wait with you . . .

swirling around dangerously close to hard ground but anticipating the dance in the wind that is to come.