How Many?

Today I heard an outrageous statement.  Some researcher or other reported that people process a couple of thousand thoughts a day. At first I though no, that number is too small. Then a little voice said, “No that sounds about right for normal folks who sleep on a regular basis, without a diet coke habit.  That depressed me enough to try giving up the diet coke. (I said TRY!)

And then I depressed myself further when I realized a great deal of the thoughts that I do
have are just the same old ones I have over and over: I need to go on a diet, what should I fix for
dinner, did I take the clothes out of the dryer, the car needs and oil change, and oh, yeah, I need
to go on a diet.
How many of my thoughts are actually something more than a chore list, a nag list, a future list
of lists that I should make in the future? Could I actually have peace of mind (just a small piece,
please, I’m not that hungry) if I just went ahead and did some of the things  that my brain thinks
up for me to do, or would it just make up more?
Thinking about all this stuff is giving me a head ache! I need a diet coke.

Music Made

I close my eyes and see water running over stones

Darkening shadows mixed with the light,

Morning rising to break up the night

Gentle and changing

Like the music made when water runs over stones.

Living Water

Today I was going through a stack of old mail, making sure I wasn't throwing away anything important, and I found this wonderful picture of a water mill on a river. It was gorgeous, but it started me thinking: We should all aspire to take a lesson from the old water mill.
A mill sits beside a strong river, it foundation planted on solid ground. But what makes a mill useful is not its location, its asthetic beauty (or not), or how up to date it is.
What makes this building a water mill is the wheel that dips into the water, letting itself be driven, creating the energy it needs to have to do its work.
We all sit next to a river of living water. This water flows strong and constant, always within reach of our paddle. But we have to freely dip our wheels in the current and let it power us.
We must make the choice and allow the living waters of God's love to move us, give us our purpose, and give us the strength we need to do all things.
We can do it, we have the wheel. Let's dip in, drink and be empowered.

Black and White

   

Today I was watching a show on UEN wherein they show you a picture of a place in color

photography, and then the same exact place in black and white.  I’m sure it’s no surprise to real

photographers, but it was really much easier to see the contents in the black and white photo than in

the complete true-to-life color photo. To me that just seems like it should work the other way around,

but the proof was right before my eyes. I began to wonder if this might hold true in other things as

well.

Do I complicate relationships, problems and the logistics of my life by trying to color everything with

more detail than I need to? What if I just stuck to the basic black and white issues? Wouldn’t it be

easier?

There is definitely a place for the full range of the color wheel, but sometimes I think I should stick to

the plain black and white.

Color: Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I made Christmas outfits for all my grandchildren?

That would be such a keepsake for them, I could save their parents some money, everyone would

know what a creative and generous person I am, ect.

Black and White: Sewing for long stretches of time kills my back.

Color: No matter how I feel, I should always teach my Sunday school class, everybody is busy, I don’t

want to cause any trouble, I don’t want to be flaky.

Black and White: You have the flu, dummy!

Something for me to think seriously about. Or maybe not! Stick to the black and white.

Most of the time.

I have recently began joining in different on-line writing groups and I have noticed a theme of dissatisfaction running through many of them. There is a sense of frenetic urgency about publishing, as if the stamp of approval from these other people was the only way of being satisfied.
Well, I...I was just about to go off on that one, but its true; we all want to be published. Dang!
So what if it never happens? No fists full of money, no public approval, no TV interviews. Would it still be worthwhile?
For me, writing is fuzzy slippers, jammies and hot cocoa. I'm happy and content. Trying to get published is like wearing your fuzzy slippers and pj's to the front door to get the paper; you open the door and spy your news-wrapped comics lying just beyond reach. You take a step outside and hear the ominious little click as the door closes behind you. You raise your head from the ground, clutching all your hopes in hand, to find yourself standing in front of yard full of well-dressed and intelligent people who can tell, with just one glance, you are not "their sort." Sorry, your books does not fit our needs at this time. Good luck placing it anywhere else.
Sigh.
Does it have to be that way?
Writing is satisfaction that I have never received in any other manner. I've learned things about people that I don't think I would have ever known without spending the time I have writing about it. So, Cheers! Let's celebrate ourselves and our writing. It's wonderful to the only person in the world you have to account to: Yourself.
And there's always another revision.