Run Away Sleep

Four thirty in the morning is not a time I often see. However, this morning I woke up at 4:30 and found that sleep had run away from me. I was not too thrilled at this trickery, but after a bit of wasted time, I decided to make the best of the quiet darkness. I grabbed the laptop and began working on my manuscript.

It has been a daunting task, but in the middle of this silence, I realized it is partially because of my expectations. I've created an insurmountable ideal of how it all might work and, well, I have to accept that I'm just not good at completing tasks, especially ones that seem impossible. I decided to toss my stone and allow freedom for my book(s) to become whatever it will be. With that decision came a release of creativity that I pray continues as I push forward to complete my 2nd draft.

I did manage to fall back to sleep just before 8, this morning and had a nice 2 hour nap. Thankfully the interrupted sleep did not impact my day, with my children, very much. Though I was ready for a nap around 2, that is nothing out of the ordinary. I still managed to play a board game, read stories, have tickle fights, etc. I was honestly surprised by this, as I am not usually so tame when I'm tired. For me, it was a reminder that God is with me. It was only by His grace that I had any energy and patience to get through the day.

Passing Away

Nearly a week ago, I found out that the woman I have known as Grandma, my entire life, passed away. I haven't seen her since blessing #3 was a year and a half old, because the last time I was visiting she was recovering from a surgery. I can't say we were necessarily close, since I pretty much never called her and wrote her sporadically. Yet, she was still very special to me. Truth be told, I'm just horrible with relationships. I hardly even call my own parents. In part because I hate the part where the phone call is over and once again the person on the other end is a distant memory. Also, I'm just awkward in general and never know what to say. Small talk is not my forte. 

I remember when I was little, I thought of my Grandma as the woman with red curly hair and frito chips for fingernails. I didn't realize people could actually have longer fingernails, though they may have been fake... One of my favorite memories of her was how she was so good at getting my brother and I to go out and pick blackberries. I'd scrunch my face up at all the creatures living in the bushes, weaving my little hand past thorns, just to pick the ripest berries I could find, as I dreamt of her delicious blackberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream. This didn't happen often, as we weren't able to visit much.

As I got older we would email each other and sometimes write letters. She never told me my dreams were out of reach and was very encouraging about my writing. She was wonderful and my heart hurts to know I won't be visiting her. I can still hear her voice, though I can't really describe it. I hope it never fades.

I know that life comes to a close for pretty much everyone, and I'm thankful for each of my Grandparents and the stories they have written, but with each Grandparent I lose,  my heart breaks more and I know I'm  closer and closer to losing my parents.

I just pray for my Grandpa and all the others she has left behind. Peace, comfort, joy, courage, and strength.

Another Sleepless Night

In the stillness of the night, as my family lay sleeping, I am once again left wide awake. This time, I don't feel my mind racing, as it often does. Instead, it is hungry for inspiration. Inspiration for my family, my home, my talents.

Over a decade ago I started a story and trashed it. When I took the adventure, of NaNoWriMo, a few years ago, I found the story returned to me with a new design and a new plan. Over these years, I have slowly added bits and pieces to it. I have a vision and a desire for it, but am lacking in motivation and prioritization, which is true for too many things in my life. Yet, my desire is to complete it. The task is overwhelming and tedious. I've never been great with details, however, all I have right now are bits of bones and flesh.

I quickly side track myself with all the busy work I can. After all, my house will never truly be clean, there will always be something else that "has" to get done "right now". This fickle mind can't seem to decide where it's focus should be. Following through is certainly not one of my strengths. My thoughts often wander from family and home, to finances and work, to all the things I love to do and all the reasons I'm too afraid to do them. Round and round, my thoughts twist and spin, never reaching a destination or conclusion.

So, here I sit, in the earliest, darkest part of the morning, staring blankly, awaiting inspiration and creativity, allowing my thoughts to fade and clear the way for the juices to start flowing once again.