2 posts in 8 months: So far, so good

Yeah, so it's been a while. Turns out you forget what it's like to have a newborn in the time between your last kid and the next. So, I've been a little busy.

I'm in the midst of a decade-long bout of writer's block. I used to write poetry -- and lots of it. I wrote a poem a day for many years. But my sister is getting married in June, and she asked me to write a poem to read aloud in her wedding. I tried to weasel out of it by finding an old poem to read, but that actually turns out to be more work than just writing a new one. So I wrote one, and I think I like it. It makes me want to write again, but I find as I get older and busier that it isn't as easy to see God behind the surfaces of things. It gets harder to do things like walk around and look at treetops or wind moving through grass and let the words pour out of your brain. I've always required a certain space and time in order to write, and it was easier to find that when I didn't have to actually be concerned about things like recessions, mortgage payments, and that troublesome cough.

But lately, some days, I find myself somehow on my way back there. My mind actually wanders at times. It feels strange, not because it isn't familiar, but because being without it is also familiar. It's as if I've been living on the surface of a piece of paper, and its corners are finally being teased by a breeze from an open window. We'll see.

Everything is Alright Forever

So everyone is blogging, right? Why not me?

Who knows: maybe one day this will become a sort of odd stick in the stream, and old friends and acquaintances will run into it and begin accumulating around it. And maybe not. Whatever the case, I need to go to bed. I have a job for Pete's sake. I have to get up early. I need my rest, don't you?