I haven't been doing much writing lately, which I think is a sign of what is going on inside more than outside. I would like to blame it on being busy. The kids. The house. Steve being around more during his non-travel season. But, I don't think those things are completely true. I have also been telling myself -and others- that I don't have a lot to say right now. I don't think that's true either. The truth?
I've just been avoiding listening to myself.
God's been doing a lot of talking through books I've been reading and thoughts I've been thinking. But, when it comes time for me to turn those thoughts, ideas or impressions inward I'm finding lots of other things to occupy my time, my mind, my heart.
For one, TV. I'm loving Parenthood right now. Also, Downton Abbey on Masterpiece Theater. The Food Network and HGTV never disappoint! I've also been napping, eating, and basically just escaping. It's been great, actually. No complaints. But then, I get in bed at night and just before I fall asleep, I hear the whisper of a longing in my heart.
Yesterday, I had lunch with my sisters, and for the first time I said out loud for others and myself to hear all the thoughts and feelings that have been stirring.
It's been a year of dealing with loss. With grieving. Not just the twins. But more. So much more.
Pretty big things, too. Things like leaving our church and experiencing the loss of that community. Relationship shifts with friends and family. Our oldest son leaving home for college has been a daily loss and then there is Steve being away from home 1/3 of the year last year. These are all big deals and not even all the losses we experienced.
But, underneath the grief is the longing. The whisper of more. It's what I'm hearing when I let my soul get quiet. There's more than what we've had. There's more than what we've known. Right now, it's still just a longing. A vague idea, a vague hope.
But it's there and it's what brings me back to writing. To putting down on paper and letting my eyes see what's been kept quietly away. You see, if I put it down in black and white then it becomes for me. Becomes more real, more true. Becomes more than a thought, more than a feeling. It becomes a promise.
Hope. Trust. Wait.
This is the whisper.