“The creative impulse can be killed, but it cannot be taught…What a teacher can do…in working with children, is to give the flame enough oxygen so that it can burn. As far as I’m concerned, this providing of oxygen is one of the noblest of all vocations.”
― Madeleine L’Engle, A Circle of Quiet

I have to admit, I had nothing coming into the writing of this post. So I perused goodreads for a quote from my favorite author. This one smacked me in the head.

This here blog is an attempt at not letting that creative impulse die. I will confess to not feeling it….creative….at all. So I am sure there will be days of blabber, list making or nonsense. But what this daily challenge does for me is give oxygen to a smoldering wick.



“When I am constantly running there is no time for being. When there is no time for being there is no time for listening.”
― Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art

It is not often that I just AM. I find myself too often splitting into many different directions. Today was not such a day. And oh, what a difference!


I slept in.

I woke up to a clean kitchen.

And a husband making pancakes.

I undecorated the Christmas tree with my son.

I had tea by a fire with two True Women.

I walked in the snow.

I was given the chance to say I am sorry.

I was forgiven.

I ate breakfast for dinner.

I listened as the most handsome voice read aloud before bed.

and it is not yet time for sleep.


“I love, therefore I am vulnerable.”
― Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art

I have been challenged by some smarty pants friends to write something every day for 365 days. They have begun really wonderful blogs, and constantly write inspiring, thoughtful, funny, etc. facebook posts, tweets, #yougetthepicture. I have some very smart friends….authors, artists, editors, all of whom write great stuff. They are culturally, politically, and socially engaged. And, well, while I truly love words…reading words, defining, spelling, teaching, playing with words…I find myself shy of the actual writing of words. I kind of blame it, for now, at least, on what is cycling through my brain and how it doesn’t appear to lend itself to writing. For instance:
When will I get this kid on the toilet?
Why does he post so many selfies?
Why do profanities pop up so frequently in my inner dialogue?
Why does she post so many photos of her best friend’s husband?
What did I do wrong that requires my son to need glasses?
Does my preteen know how much I love her?
What is for dinner?

And, well, I think I get it a bit. Writing about such stuff on the impulse would really be boring, foolish, possibly slanderous, and flat out meh. My inner dialogue is busy with worry and fear. For friends, strangers, my kids, my husband, my community, church, myself. I would like to think it is because I am such a caring and thoughtful person. But when it comes down to it, I am pretty sure I worry because I do not trust in the One who bids me “Do not fear.”

So, this challenge is, to me, an act of faith. I am going to place my eyes on Jesus standing over there on top of the depths and walk out of my comfy boat here and walk on water. One word at a time.