It's a strange thing. Oh. Maybe it is not strange at all.
My muse dropped in to pay me a visit the other night.
The result was an outpouring of words strung together into sentences, ideas and visions.
Whether it was the synergy of a busy productive day or was it simply the rich setting of the sanctuary that opened the doorway to the muse.... I do not really know the answer, but I do know that I completely enjoyed the visitation!
Then my muse left....and today I am greeted with a stunning revelation.
There are countless pages penned in days and seasons when the muse took up residency within my spirit....and it is to those pages that I must return for guidance.
There were golden answers transcribed during that sacred season that can direct my footsteps today.
Perhaps, I can even find the words and the divine messages for books!
After all between the journals and blogs, the messages are many.
So I ponder the question.... Can the words I recorded in that sacred season of my life REALLY guide, direct and inspire me today. And if they really could, then why am I so hesitant to revisit them?
And even more of a question.... Shouldn't the words of spirit spoken directly within my very heart and recorded by my hands be even more valuable in relationship to the context of me?
Those old transcripts held so many prayers and petitions, revelations and rapturous rhythms.
And yet, I am slow to revisit the dialogs that held me in spiritual suspension while God worked out the logistics of what was to come.
Oh, to go back and to visit, to see the prayers that were answered, to celebrate the blessings that God has placed in my life... What could be more comforting!!!!
Today, I sit on the other side of the story, and while surely it is not The Rest of the Story, it is a continuation of the story... It is the story 4,5,6,7,8,9,10 plus years later!
Today that story picks me up, no longer as the single woman that I once was when I penned all those divine dialogs, but as a married one, married and living in a different town, with a whole different set of dynamics.
Quite frankly, those different dynamics have at times overwhelmed and immobilized me. And have in some strange and incomprehensible ways drawn me away from, rather than drawn me closer to the actual recordings of the rich dialogs I have witnessed within my spirit.
I wonder if I am brave enough to fully and completely explore the depths within by way of print,
as I once did?
It is one thing to write freely from the heart on anything when you live alone, but perhaps another when you live with others. For iris these writings that the deepest stirrings of the soul are put out there by ink or keyboard strokes,
