It is difficult to write in this space sometimes. Do I have something worth telling? If I don't have something to share that makes others reach heavenward, is it worth writing? Do these photos and words make me, or do I make them? If I can't clearly write something that is soul-satisfying, should I even waste the reader's time with posting?
And so I haven't posted. I have photos (showing that I have yet to finish reading Understanding Exposure on my bookshelf) and half-written posts of jumbled words that tell of days, rich and full, tumbling from spring into summer with rain and tattered end-of-the-school-year math books and new guitar chords as background music and a five year old on two wheels with a smile that is rainbow in the damp gray.
I don't know if I can carve something lasting in a space this ethereal. But I do know that I am called to leave standing stones, a mark that I was here and God was good, even if I can't make my camera capture the moments or my words adequately tell of His story and mine entwined.
And so I write...