I haven’t been posting in this space for a while, mainly because I was waiting for my study to be painted and the house to return to normal. But my study is painted, order is restored, I have a beautiful writing space and yet, still I hesitate, still I delay. I just can’t seem to think of anything to say.
And it’s because I am in the waiting. That nebulous space where I am waiting for inspiration, for something worthwhile to say.
I feel like I am in that stage for a number of things at the moment. I am brimming chock full of ideas, with very little clarity as to implementation or even direction. I am in the waiting.
Being a person of faith, I have thrown it all up in the air, and what do you know? No answers yet, still waiting.
But what if I treated the waiting as if it were important too?
What if even though I can’t see progress, I accept that progress is still being made?
What if I accept that there is validity here, in this place of questions and no answers, with more dreams each and every day?
What if I believe that dreaming is important, and it grows me in intangible ways?
What if I believe that sometimes just sitting with ideas is all you need to do, to sift them through?
What if I believe there is purpose in the waiting, the gently holding, the lightly offering of these ideas?
What if I treat them not as mine but His and let Him blow on them to grow, or blow away as He wills?