The whine of a fiddle and cool-guy sound of an acoustic guitar are playing in the background of an icy evening.
Scriptures falling in and out of mind today along with pulmonary embolisms… taught today. Oh’ goodness I love teaching. The light, the spark the A-Ha! I know why so many of my girly-girl- pink-polka-dot-donned college friends chose education. Pardon the stereotype- i know its not fair. Just take it as a nerdy- biology bench-ridden girl with scrappy hair and pencil-indented fingers being jealous of my prettier- education studying brethren.
I read this week about blogging– why do it? Asked if its a diary? a newspaper? ministry? I would love to you know why you blog. What keeps your fingers coming back to dance on the keys?
There is no poetic response from this peanut gallery, I think my fingers dance because they have to. I have journaled my whole life, thousands of pencil smudged pages are covered.
It is only recently that I have decided to finger dance it is undoubtably different. Not a diary, too public. Not a highlight reel.. too messy. Not planned nor refined, it is for this gal…… inspired. The words are not prophetic nor divine
…. just necessary.
My hope is that the dark-inky-scary places that beg to be written can find a place that is comforting for your heart, for your Spirit. My hope is that through my healing, which is for now finger dancing- that you might find some too…. ill bring snacks.