It’s often a nudge that sets me out again, sets me off to explore. A whim, some might say. Call it a holy intuition, a sacred whisper, an invitation to dive deep. To drown. To breathe. I have sometimes said that, when writing fiction, I cannot deny my characters. If they reveal their true nature to me, I must be faithful to it. Often I find that all their reactions and confessions are more than what they seem, and the ending is not as bad as I initially think. What does that have to do with anything? To put it simply: listening.
What do I believe?
Life is a journey.
Endings and beginnings are relative points on the circumference of eternity.
This blog has often served as my space to wrestle with faith, with humanity and humility, with learning how to live with integrity. I whine or weave or wander my way through a mind-maze of words, writing not for an audience but for my own benefit. Somewhere along the way, it might help another.
I don’t claim to have answers, to be any particular thing–other than myself, whoever that may be, searching for ways to live with integrity, authenticity. Inevitably, the words find their way out. May God send them where She pleases. As for me, I will speak in ink as I must. For the rest, I will simply have to trust.
But damn, isn’t that always the hardest part?