Flood

He and I walked down to see the muddy water boiling through the gates from the lake into the flooding river bed.

This gushing torrent is pouring from the same serene lake whose lovely face I have shared previously.  She is overloaded with rain and bursting at the seams.  Not her normal self.

I know how she feels.  I have a torrent of thoughts flooding my mind.  I recently filled one of my paper journals and switched to a fresh one.  I keep hauling around the old one.  I have been back through it several times trying to figure out what I am afraid to discard or shelve.  Finally, yesterday, while again going over the pages, I realized the whispers of the bigger story I want to tell is started there.

I shared with my friend today my idea of what I want to tell.  She had asked me if I have taken classes or is my writing a gift.  I don’t know about it being a gift, but, no I haven’t taken writing classes.  I haven’t even read many books on the prescribed reading lists from high school or college.  I simply write.  I have written forever.  When the prescribed writing of school days ended, the pen of teenage passion waned, and my babies were big enough to play without constant surveillance, I began journaling.  From the first time I heard about the concept of blogging, I wanted to try it.

I always wanted to be like John Boy Walton and write stories.  I never felt I had a story to write.  I still don’t have a fiction story to write.  My cousin encourages me to write the book.  I want to tell my story.  Every woman’s story.  Wish me courage.  Wish me discipline.  Wish me strength.

I fear letting the story come forth, I will become like this raging river boiling from the depths of the lake.  Churning out of control and spilling forth over the banks meant to contain me.  The banks of calm rationality I try so hard to maintain.  But, dear reader, you know I despise fear.  Here is a fear I must overcome and free myself.  He will hold on to me when I start to go under.  He will not let me be pushed to the bottom of the churning turmoil of emotional energy.  He will lift me up to Him in his prayers and we will ride out another flood of life together.

IMAG1722-1

 

Violets

The weekend was well spent.  A major chore was completed.  I had snuggle time with my great nieces.  I took some time with him.  I got to walk in the woods soaking up fresh air and sunshine, listening to birdsong.

On the walk, I constantly noticed the violets.  Some were blooming and some were just sprouting out of the leaf litter on the forest floor.  I always think of my mother when I see them.  She would love to ride up to the park to see if the one particular section was full of blooms.

The birds have been filling my ears and heart with joyful sound.  I sometimes wish I didn’t have a cat so I could put out bird feeders near the house and watch them come and go.

Everything is springing to life.  It is just coming awake from its slumbering winter.  Time for me to do the same.  Shake off the slumber of the recent days and spring to life.   Push through the debris of things and spring to a fresh outlook.

IMAG1716-1