I guess I unintentionally gave up blogging here for Lent. But now, as my son wrote in his notebook this morning, He is risen! and I am back.
I don't have much to say, really. [I get most of my
We like to wait to see where our stories are going before we start telling them. We're not afraid to admit our mistakes and stumbles as long as we can keep talking, as long as we can explain just how they all got fixed and how everything happened for a reason.
What about the middle? What about the times when we aren't sure how it will all turn out? Why are we afraid to open our mouths in those moments?
It might be because opening our mouths when we're in the middle can sound a lot like whining. It can sound like lack of faith. It can even sound like disobedience.
And maybe it is, I don't know. Maybe we have to whine and doubt and disobey our way through the muck until we see how God is making castles from our mud cakes. I still think it's OK to talk about it.
