Seems like forever since I have written anything of note. Lots of things cross my mind yet my fingers can not seem to find their smooth rhythmic pattern these days. However, it’s probably at those times that writing would prove to be most therapeutic. It seems my mind is divided in a thousand little pieces that lack congruency.
Am I slowly resolving to my own little plan B or am I really prepared to stay the course until my personal GPS, the Holy Spirit, directs me to my next turn? At times the silence between the designated turn points is deafening. It’s then that I question like my six-year old niece, has the man stop talking. Intellectually, I know that it’s only necessary for the GPS to speak when its time to make some change in course. But, it doesn’t stop me from longing to hear His voice in the in between spaces of life.