Stories from a life in progress.


I'm weepy tonight, but it isn't sad-weepy. I'm leaking tension-releasing tears, marveling tears.

I may be getting a more constant writing job -- maybe, only maybe, but a real possibility. I've been fighting to imagine myself and identify myself as a "real writer," and maybe I am going to be able to start working as one professionally, in a small, exploratory way.

It's been two and a half years since I made a real living by my work, and maybe now I'm going to get to start a new living for myself. Maybe my "what if?" wondering can become a real, living thing.

Only beginnings, small beginnings. But maybe not only beginnings; maybe also the emerging of internal change into the external world. I have been working hard on the internal changes for a long time. Maybe that process will begin peeking through, becoming more visible to everyone else.

I don't know yet; I can't see ahead. But tonight I feel God's Spirit calling me back to 1 Corinthians 3, where Paul writes "you are God's field, God's building." I read those words tonight and I feel they are true, feel God's reassurance in them: yes, you are mine, and I am at work. I am making new things grow in you; I am building new things which you will be a part of. I'm not forgetful of you, dear child. You are mine, and I am working to make you all new.

I am so unclever tonight; I don't have the right words to say thank you or to express anything I feel, hope or fear or excited thrill. I have happy tears and a heart which looks up to my God in wonder.