Everything, as Ecclesiastes 3 says, has its season, and writing is no exception. There's a time to write and--I believe--a time to keep from writing. Maybe there's even a time to throw away something you've written, as if it were a moldy old stone weighing you down! That's where I am.
I'm at the end of something, but I haven't figured out where or how to begin again.
Years ago, when my husband was frantically working toward his doctorate, he said there was a point at which it became counterproductive to pursue work that he had no taste for. Better to go fishing! Why wrestle with a task that, at a better time and in the right frame of mind, you might accomplish with ease?
But sometimes I don't take my own advice. This is the third time I have worked on a blog post. The first two I deleted because I just couldn't say anything meaningful. So I'm going fishing!
I'm as confident that my reservoir will fill again as I am that winter will follow fall. And when it does, my pen will be in my hand.
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