Tag: life

Posted in Thoughts from Life, What I Do

Doing

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

The clock is ticking.

I sat down at the appropriate time to start writing. But this morning, the brain is just completely uncooperative. I’ve tried to start several things, but couldn’t flesh them out. I’ve tried to complete in-progress thoughts, but they all continue to fizzle.

And the clock keeps ticking. I have an end point. A deadline. A time when I am obligated to other things. I can’t just sit here and stare at a blank screen until thoughts work. Or until I’m able to take one of my ideas or post starters and turn it into something viable.

So, I want to give up. I want to look at that clock and say there’s no way I’ll produce anything in the time left, so why bother? I want to give in to the emotions and voices in my head telling me it’s pointless. That I have nothing today, so why even try? I want to just give over, once again, to the seeming reality that this is pointless.

I’ve done it before. Why not again?

Because it’s never truly worked. I’ve never been satisfied. I’ve never been relieved to walk away. I’ve always been antsy and frustrated with myself, because I know trying is what I’m supposed to do.

So, I’m tapping out meaningless words that may never go anywhere. May never see the light of day. Just to say I’m doing. In hopes that exercising the muscle today, no matter how lightly, will result in being able to actually work it tomorrow. Will result in some measure of productivity. Will help me actually be able to think and communicate and share.

I’m doing today for the sake of tomorrow.

Tomorrow will probably be a struggle, too, but I’ll do tomorrow for the sake of the next day. And the next. And the next.

And maybe someday I’ll have something real. All because I didn’t give up, give in, or give over today.

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

Work

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Work.

Does it ever feel like a four-letter word to you? I confess, it does to me at times. (Honestly, right now is one of those times!) A job that is stressful and disheartening can weigh us down tremendously, but so can the idea of any work. It can feel so negative. So burdensome. So opposite of the life we’re supposed to live.

And when we see work that way, it can infect the fullness of our attitudes, leading us to reflect a blah-ness about everything we do.

I was feeling this rather heavily one morning as I looked ahead to the day. I honestly just didn’t want to do it. Any of it. The employment work was discouraging. The life work interminable. All of it was compounded by a long string of 100-degree days behind us, a forecast that promised much more of the same, and drought with no promise of relief. Life just felt heavy, and I didn’t want to do any of it.

And wouldn’t you know it, that morning, my Bible reading was 1 Thessalonians 1, which begins this way:

Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy:
To the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Grace to you and peace.
We always thank God for all of you, making mention of you constantly in our prayers. We recall, in the presence of our God and Father, your work produced by faith, your labor motivated by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.
I Thessalonians 1:1-3 (CSB) emphasis mine

Verse three stopped me in my tracks, especially considering the teeny glimpse into Thessalonian life that Acts 17 gives us. Paul didn’t get to spend a lot of time in Thessalonica because of the character of the people there. In fact, Acts 17:11 compares the Thessaolonians to the people of Berea, the next town Paul went to, by stating that the Bereans “were of more noble character than those in Thessalonica.” Paul’s ministry in this less-than-noble town had been short-lived, yet there were those who chose to follow Christ. A church was born, even in this town. And I can imagine that the Christians left behind by Paul weren’t responded to well by the crew that both ran Paul out of Thessalonica and followed him to Berea to run him out of there as well.

And yet, they persevered to the point of being highly praised by Paul for their work.

Work produced by faith.

Not by the culture. Not by the demands of life. But by faith. They worked because of their allegiance to God Almighty.

We have a hard time wrapping our heads around how much religion was integrated with every day life for people like the Thessalonians. By becoming Christians, they had to re-evaluate everything. Every aspect of life. And they chose to do it in a way that, according to Paul, was firmly grounded in faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Labor motivated by love.

I work because I am supposed to. Whether it’s the income-based jobs God has put before me or the other aspects of work — church, life, family, etc. — I labor from obedience. The thing about obedience, though, is that we sometimes think we’re okay as long as we’re checking off the “obey” box. As long as we’re fulfilling the obligation, that’s all that matters.

But it’s not all that matters. The church in Thessalonica apparently understood that clearly, because their labor was motivated not by obedience or obligation. It was motivated by love. Oh how much we could accomplish with love as our motivation!

Endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

So often my endurance is inspired by necessity. I’m here. I have no other choice but to be here. So I keep on keeping on because there really isn’t another option.

But, there is. If I’m here, it’s because God put me here. If I’m here, it’s because He has a purpose. If I’m here, it’s to accomplish the work set forth by the Lord Jesus Christ to draw all humanity to Himself. To see the fulfillment of the eternal kingdom. If I’m here, it is because of the hope of that fulfillment.

I’m about to clock in and start work for the day. It’s a job that, on the surface, has nothing to do with eternity. I’ll go through the steps, then break for lunch, then come back, then do chores, then wrap up the day to try to get some sleep so I can do it all over again.

What if I remembered that the will of God is not disconnected from daily life? What if I lived today the way the Thessalonian Christians lived it? What if I worked as unto the Lord, recognizing that He has me here for a reason, no matter how pointless the job seems? What if I am motivated by love? Inspired by hope in Christ Jesus?

What might I see if I live that way? I’m ready to find out!

Posted in Reviews

Book Review: Unoffendable

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

My husband and I frequently share tidbits from books we’re reading. Sometimes the tidbits he shares with me let me know that he’s run across a book I need to read too.

Unoffendable by Brant Hansen was one such book. So, today I’m going to see if I can remember how to write a book review so I can share this book with you as well!

The premise is very simple and is actually stated on the back cover: “What if we decided not to be offended?” The style of the book itself is just as simple, at least in regards to readability. It’s one of those engaging, enjoyable, quick reads with perfectly sized chapters and subsections.

The content of Unoffendable, though, is far from simple. Hansen argues that our anger and quick offense are not the useful tools we think they are. To be honest, I had some of the same responses that he reports receiving from other critics: Are there not legitimate times to be angry? Are there not times when taking offense spurs us to action? Do we not fall into the trap of ambivalence if we refuse to become angry about injustice?

Hansen would answer “no” to every one of those questions, backing up his perspective with a combination of solid biblical support and personal experience. He isn’t just preaching a theoretical sermon. He’s sharing what he has learned from his own study of the Word of God, as well as his experience of living out the lessons he’s learned.

Ultimately, two points in Hansen’s arguments hit home most strongly and bring the rest of the book into focus for me. The first is his discussion on righteous anger, questioning our ability to truly handle our anger in a righteous manner with no sin. If we stop and think about it, are we really able to be angry and not sin? Or is that perhaps only something God can accomplish?

The second is his perspective that anger frequently does not drive us to positive action. It leads us to talk a big talk and make sure to air our opinions. But, action that fights against injustice more faithfully emerges from love and compassion than from anger.

In sharing the lessons that God has been teaching him, Hansen is honest and open. He is not afraid to admit his own poor responses and foibles. He’s in no way claiming to have it all figured out. Instead, he’s excited about the peace and growth that have come from taking this one step of obedience, and he wants others to know the same peace and growth.

Unoffendable has not cured me of being offended or angry. But it has made me stop and notice. And the noticing has been rather uncomfortable. But that’s the way of conviction and growth, and I definitely want to grow more. I’m thankful for Hansen’s willingness to share his own growth to help us better process God’s teaching on how we as His children should handle our anger.

Posted in Thoughts from Creation, Thoughts from Life

What Are You Creating?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Last week I asked what you were reading. Today, I have a similar question: what are you creating?

The more I learn about what it means to be made in the image of God, the more I see creativity shine as a beautiful example. He is so very creative, not only in the way He fashioned the universe and mankind, but also in the way He has engaged with His creation throughout its — and our — existence. There seems to be no limit to the discovery of new aspects of His creativity!

And the most beautiful part of it all is that He shares creativity with us. Because we are made in His image, we have endless avenues for exploring creativity. Often, though, we miss it because we miss the true definition of creativity.

It’s easy to connect creativity specifically to the arts. Someone who can paint or draw or sculpt or carve or assemble beautiful works of art. Someone who can produce beautiful music. Someone who can design patterns or create beautiful things with fabric or yarn. Those are the creative people.

But we don’t all fit into those categories. And even those who dabble in the arts might not consider themselves truly creative. Everything I do craft-wise is sourced from the idea or pattern of someone else. Am I truly creative if I’m simply copying or following directions using a skill I’ve learned?

The answer is yes. And I’m learning that everyone has some measure of creativity.

Yours might be in how you relate to people. Or cook a meal. Or mow a lawn. You might not be able to paint a solid color evenly on a plain board to save your life, but if someone needs to know the best way to fence off their back yard, you’re the person to call. You might not be able to sew a straight seam no matter how hard you try, but when you tell a story, others are immediately captivated.

Creativity may be the ability to see a new topic to research. It might be the enjoyment of pulling out decorations for every season. It could be knowing just what to plant each season to create a yard that brings joy to others.

It might also be simply following directions to accomplish something. That’s me, and I have long believed that meant I wasn’t creative. And yet, when I follow directions and something good comes from it, even if it’s following directions for a task I’m not really great at, I’m exercising my creativity. It could be as simple as following a recipe to produce food that tastes good, even though cooking is not something I enjoy. It could be the act of enjoying the sight of the Norfolk pine I all but killed years ago, now flourishing and growing so tall that I can’t help but wonder where I’ll put it to protect it from the week of cold we might get this winter!

Right now, I’m working on two sweaters. I’ve never made sweaters before, but I’m currently crocheting one and knitting the other. I’m also crocheting a blanket. I’m strictly following existing patterns, using skills other people have taught me. Even the colors are some my daughter helped me pick out and pair together in an effort to use up some of our yarn stash. It feels very uncreative. It feels more like a simple task I have chosen for the purpose of helping my brain and body relax. It was hard to find the patterns. Hard to come up with the ideas. Creativity isn’t supposed to be that hard, is it?

And yet, I’m creating. In my own way. And it is nourishing me.

My challenge to you is to rethink creativity in your own life. Stop and evaluate the things you’re doing. What brings nourishment? What spurs you to learn more about yourself? What draws you closer to your Creator?

If you can’t answer those questions, perhaps your next challenge is to stop and ask your Creator to help you see how you can image Him through creativity. Let Him open your mind to what is possible. To what fits with how He created you.

Then come back and answer the question: what are you creating? By answering and sharing that answer with those around us, we might just help others see creativity in themselves, possibly in ways they never imagined!

Posted in Thoughts from Life

From the Middle

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I got a chuckle the other day as I read some social media posts from a first-year homeschool mom. She really is doing well, it seems. She’s been able to process wisdom from more experienced homeschool parents, and she’s implementing that wisdom well. But, there were a few spots where I still wanted to say, “Bless your heart,” or “Oh, honey!” You know…those lovely Southern phrases we pull out when we just don’t know what else to say.

At the same time, though, I applaud her for openly sharing her learning journey. So often, we hear from the veterans only. Those who have such a wealth of experience to share. And their wisdom is so incredibly valuable! But it can also be like drinking from a fire hydrant, especially if it’s decades of experience being handed down to someone just getting started — someone who actually does need the time to develop before they can truly handle that full slate of resources.

I know I’ve been guilty of sharing advice with other people this way, whether in homeschooling or ministry or parenting or any other area where I have a smackerel of experience. It can be…a lot.

But there’s a space that rarely gets shared from. That space right in the middle. The place where we have passed the idealism of the original thought, idea, or inspiration, but we haven’t yet seen how it turns out. We don’t yet know if our attempts will actually work. We have no idea if the advice is sound. And, to be truly honest, we can often find ourselves pretty disillusioned and discouraged. Who wants to share any of that?

Honestly, I think we’re the wisest in that middle space. We’ve been hit with reality a few times, and it illuminates the flaws in our initial idealistic inspiration. We’re encountering the holes that need to be filled; we’re being stopped in our tracks by problems that need to be solved; we’re seeing ideas that need to be revisited and revised. We still have no idea what the outcome will be and what additional errors or useless actions we’ll process along the way. But we’re gaining the tools we need to evaluate each step of the journey. And we’re getting better at it as we go.

That’s a hard space to share, to be honest. It doesn’t sell books. It doesn’t “preach” or enable one to gain any sort of platform. It has no confirmation of validity.

Even so, it’s where the vast majority of us exist. Honestly, I was in “the middle” of homeschooling until the moment my youngest finished his last high school requirement. And even then, I didn’t really know if I’d succeeded in equipping all three of them well. Well into my “retirement,” I’m still processing what did and did not work — what I’d do differently if I began again armed with the knowledge I have now. (And I have no idea if the “different” would actually work better.)

Currently, I’m in the middle of figuring out what life looks like as a “retired” homeschool teacher who is floundering through multiple ill-fitting jobs and just trying to figure out what’s next. What does it mean to be the mom of adults? Am I building the relational skills I’ll need to possibly become a mother-in-law someday? How are we as a family handling the challenge of staying connected in a new and different way, building on the foundation we laid when we all lived under the same roof? How is my approach to employment now paving the way for what I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life?

The middle is squishy. It’s gray. It’s confusing. It’s uncertain.

Yet it is a place that needs to be shared. It is more important to talk about the middle than it is to rave about cool new ideas or share advice from places of success and completion. We need to see each other in the middle. We need to know how someone else is solving problems. Or filling holes, or revising ideas. Or restarting completely when it all falls apart.

It’s hard to share from the middle, but maybe that’s one of the things I need to be learning. Maybe that’s a space of vulnerability I need to be willing to express.

How about you? Are you in the middle on anything right now? How about we meet each other there and walk through the journey together? It might make the completion even more victorious!

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Jumble

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

My thoughts are all jumbled up today, and it’s honestly hard to sort them out. It’s like having the pieces of a dozen puzzles all mixed up together. Or that chaos that would ensue if the multiple cones of yarn in my craft bag were to become unrolled and all knotted together.

I have a lot of thoughts, but they’re all knotted and tangled and scrambled together, and it’s hard to even find a single place to start.

That’s how life is sometimes, isn’t it? Life doesn’t let us deal with one scenario at a time, neatly and cleanly. It mixes and jumbles them all in together. It blends them to the point where it can be hard to even see their distinction. And it’s not just the problematic portions of life. Sometimes, it’s hard to find the edges of the good as we try to push through the bad. And often we feel like the task is too big to even try.

But, try we must.

So, today I’m starting with my thoughts. I’m try to find an end that I can start tugging on to see where it goes. Is it attached to that over there? What happens if I pull at this knot over here?

And wouldn’t you know, pulling is working. They’re starting to unravel a bit. They’re starting to separate and allow me to see what’s worth keeping and what’s not. In fact, by the time you actually read this post, it will probably be several weeks down the road, because several of these thoughts I’m pulling on feel like thoughts I can complete today or this week or in the coming weeks.

When life is a jumble, it’s easy to just give in to being overwhelmed by the chaos. But if we can take a few minutes to focus on one knot at a time, to narrow our focus and solve one little thing that we can, sometimes the jumble begins to make sense. It might still be huge, but maybe it will look a little less overwhelming.

What one free end, one small knot, one little and solvable problem can you focus on today? May it help you see that the jumble of life isn’t so overwhelming after all.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

What is Finished?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

When I first sat down to start fleshing out this thought, I had just put three dish cloths in the laundry.

It seems like such an odd statement. What’s the big deal about washing three dish cloths?

Well, let me tell you a bit of a story.

I love handmade dish cloths. There’s something about washing dishes with that particular texture that just works. Some do work better than others, to be sure. The cutesy knit cloths with cows and dogs and dragons and dinos that I made when the kids were younger work fine, but the best ones are those with stronger texture variations that allow for soft but effective scrubbing.

Those cutesy cloths eventually wore out, and I realized it was time — probably well past time — to make a new batch of cloths. It took me a while, but I finally got around to starting the project. I had a couple of partially used cones of cotton yarn that didn’t have enough left for integrating into other projects, so that made yarn choice easy. The next step was to choose patterns. It didn’t matter if they were knit or crochet. I simply wanted them to be cute, but also functional, while being quick and easy to make. I found about a dozen patterns to try and dove in. Several times I’d start a pattern, get about a fourth of the way in, then decide that I didn’t like the feel or look or size or that the pattern would require too much attention. But I kept trying, knowing I’d get it figured it out.

I finally settled on two. My favorite, a texturally delightful knit basket weave was quick, simple, and could easily be adjusted to a variety of sizes. The other pattern was also quick, easy (unless I tried to alternate colors like I did with the first attempt at that pattern; beautiful results, but slow work!), and perfect for wiping counters.

Colors settled. Patterns chosen. Finally, I was ready to start creating my stash.

But, here’s the catch. The whole planning process took several weeks. And, I’m not super quick at knitting or crocheting. And, the first basket weave cloth I made I had to undo because I’d over-adjusted the size and made it too small. You see where this is going. This “quick and easy” plan to replace my dish cloths was turning out to be quite slow.

Which lead to another issue. I’m a finisher. So, of course, I wanted to finish all of the dish cloths before running them through the wash and integrating them into our daily usage. Very practical, right? Plan well, implement the plan, get it completed, then apply it. That’s how life should be.

Except, it’s not.

Life isn’t that clean. Or tidy. Or smooth. Life doesn’t let us focus on a thing, whatever that thing may be, and bring it to completion before throwing us a curve ball or introducing a new thing that needs to be tackled. Sometimes we have to live with small steps, rejoicing in the segments instead of waiting for the big finish.

Of course, that leaves a new challenge. What really does it mean to be finished? Where is that victory line we’re aiming toward? How many boxes really have to be checked off to indicate that we’ve made it? Are we finished when we’ve reached our original goal? Are we finished when we’re functional?

Or are we ever truly finished?

That’s a hard question for me in the grand scheme of life. It’s a rather philosophical one, and processing philosophical questions is not a big strength of mine. I prefer to tackle questions I can truly answer. And projects I can truly finish.

But since life isn’t that clean, I’m trying to use my little projects to practice tackling the big philosophical question, starting with running three completed dish cloths through the laundry so we could go ahead and start replacing the worn out ones. I eventually finished three more. In the meantime, I started other projects, some small and some large. Some would be finished quickly. On another, I set a one-year goal, knowing it would take me a while.

The finish line that I so dearly love may be hard to define. But that should never stop me from starting. Or from implementing along the way.

So, today, I’ll celebrate those three dish cloths. I’ll celebrate that I did actually finish that project. And I’ll keep pushing through life trusting that the One who gave me this desire to finish will guide me for His glory.

That’s answer enough for today.

Posted in Tool Box

The Tool for All Tool Boxes

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I must admit to a bit of a chuckle as I start this thought.

I don’t know of a single person who likes to be called a “tool” or relegated to the idea of simply being a resource or a useful thing.

And yet, when it comes to building tool boxes to fit current needs or prepare for something we desire to do — any hobby, habit, journey, adventure, activity, job, task, or any other noun we can think of — the people around us truly are our greatest resource. If we have nothing else, we should grab onto people!

First, people provide real experience.

Even if we’re trailblazing and doing something no one else has technically ever done before, we’re blazing those trails because of the experience of people who have accomplished much before us. They’ve laid groundwork, created the resources we use, or simply lived an example of what it means to blaze those new trails.

How much more should we lean on that experience when we are carrying on a torch, continuing the work of those who have been doing it for generations?

Wisdom based on the experience of others can come in many forms. It can be found in books written across the centuries. In information shared through our many avenues of modern media (yes, even social media can have good uses!). In products and resources created by others to equip our journey. In personal relationships with those who share our interests.

Sifting through the experience of others will require patience and wisdom, but it’s an invaluable resource when it comes to building your own tool box.

People understand resources.

In my homeschooling years, one of the most common and important, yet also most problematic, questions fellow homeschoolers asked was, “What curriculum should I use?” Let me tell you, homeschoolers are very ready to let you know what their favorite homeschool curriculum is and why it’s absolutely perfect!

But, that was never the best advice. The best advice came from those who stopped to say, “Tell me about your family.” Before offering a single suggestion, they wanted to understand the needs of each child and the dynamics of the homeschool family. Then and only then would they offer suggestions about resources.

That’s the kind of people you want to lean on as you build your tool box. The ones who will understand who and where you are. The ones who will share with you as you experiment. The ones who aren’t offended if you choose a resource or path that’s different from their own because they know you have different needs.

Again, some of these people will be those you know personally. Others will be people who share information through websites, podcasts, books, or other resources. Whoever they are, look for those who understand what it means to match people to resources, not just promote a “one-size fits-all” solution. (That’s as much of a myth in filling your tool box as it is in shopping for clothes, by the way.)

Finally, people offer community.

This is truly the most important one. You want to gather people who stand beside you. Provide encouragement. Offer guardrails to keep you from going too crazy. But also provides safe space to let you get a little crazy (because that’s a necessity for any growth).

They might not actually share your new adventure. And that’s okay. If they’re willing to walk beside you, that’s incredibly valuable.

Adjacency is a popular concept these days. Adjacent play. Adjacent work. People each doing their own thing, but together. Consider how much easier it can be to do certain tasks, even distasteful ones, if you simply have someone nearby. It’s always easier for me to focus on work when my husband is working from home and sitting at the desk next to mine. It’s easier for my daughter to tackle housework if she has someone there to jabber at, even if they aren’t actually helping with the work.

People.

If you don’t gather anything else, gather your people. It’s the one tool you’ll never regret having.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Others

My Certainty

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Oh my word, how I needed this reminder this morning! Once again, I am thankful for the record of what God has taught me in the past so I can continue to move forward in growth. And finding certainty in Him is definitely an area where He keeps pushing me to dive deeper and grow more.

Uncertainty. Don’t you just love it. Never knowing what’s around the next bend? Not being able to plan and anticipate?

Okay, if that excited you and made you say, “Yes! I do love it!” then I will go ahead and admit something right now – I don’t understand you. I may still love you, and I will probably try to draw on your strength and excitement when I’m overwhelmed by uncertainty. But I just cannot understand you.

No, I do not always have to have all of the answers, nor do I insist on a crystal clear path at all times. Admittedly, surprises are fun, and the unexpected keeps life interesting and exciting. But that’s not the same as uncertainty.

Uncertainty is knowing that there is something around the corner – and possibly even knowing what it is – but not really being able to predict how it will impact life. If I know that something uncertain is ahead of me, I want to at least have the chance to do something productive to prepare for the uncertainty.

It’s like knowing that tornado season is coming around. I’m an Arkansan, which means tornado season is a given. I do not know when storms will come, but I know they will. And although I cannot guarantee my family’s safety during a tornado, I can do practical, productive things to prepare. I can make sure that we all know where to go to take cover quickly and smoothly. I can make sure necessities are easy to grab. I can prepare.

The problem comes when I see uncertainty on the horizon and cannot do a thing about it. I can’t prepare. I can’t plan. I can only wait. Wait in the uncertainty.

That’s exactly where the Lord puts me from time to time. Why? Because I’m finding my certainty in activity. In preparation. In doing something. What does He want instead?

He wants to be my certainty.

Oswald Chambers says it quite well in My Utmost from His Highest.

Certainty is the mark of a common-sense life; gracious uncertainty is the mark of the spiritual life. To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways…

Ouch. I tried to argue with that rationale this week. I hoped that I could look at 1 John 3:2, the focal verse for the devotional, and determine that Chambers was out of context with his deductions. But no, he wasn’t. And I was stuck.

I had been living a common-sense life. The Lord was – and is – calling me to a life filled with Him. A life in which my only certainty is Himself. Not circumstances. Not preparation. Not clear answers or firm direction.

Just Himself.

Where is your certainty today? If it is anywhere but in Christ Himself, He will push you into circumstances that challenge your common-sense life. And it hurts. But it’s worth it.

Will you join me in “gracious uncertainty”? Together, let’s make our Lord and Savior our only certainty.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

The Thoughts that Don’t Make It

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I’m sitting here this morning perusing my notes, in-progress thoughts, and rough drafts, wondering if I should start from scratch with today’s post or prepare something I’ve already started.

Some of the thoughts have been here a while. Months. Others are recent, but I need them to gel a bit to make sure that I’m saying things clearly. Sometimes I can sit down and go from idea to publication in an hour or so with no problem. But most of the things I’m skimming through this morning are thoughts that, for whatever reason, don’t fit into that mold. They were jotted down as incomplete ideas that needed to be pondered or fleshed out, but just haven’t made it to completion yet.

Some were thoughts hammered out in emotional times. Whether it was negative or positive emotions, my emotional writing frequently doesn’t make sense until I can pull back and separate the thoughts from the emotions. Sometimes, though, that makes it impossible to ever complete the thoughts, because emotional memories are strong.

Some will eventually find their way to publication. Others never will. I’ll never get them to work. And that’s okay. Because it’s not really the completion that matters in every situation. Sometimes thoughts are there to give birth to learning in other areas. They lead to other ideas and different growth — to things that I can share later. But it’s important to jot the thoughts down, because otherwise I’ll forget them. After all, if it’s not written down, it usually doesn’t happen! At least, that’s the way it is for my extremely visual brain.

The point is, I struggle sometimes to know which thoughts should be pushed through and which ones should never be publicly read. It’s important for us to learn to be vulnerable. To be real. But, there is wisdom in vulnerability. There must still be boundaries and guidelines for when and how to share parts of ourselves. And there are some things that will never be published on a public blog, even if the blog is rarely seen by more than a handful of people.

The key is to recognize which thoughts fit into which category. But there’s also the need to recognize my own mental acuity each time I try to make such a decision. Am I in touch with wisdom enough to know whether or not something needs to be published? Am I deciding from a place of insecurity or discernment? Some days I have more clarity than others. Am I willing to admit when I’m experiencing a day that lacks clarity?

Today is a day when I don’t really have much to say. But, it’s been a bit of a weird week, and my routine is thrown off. So, as I stumble through trying to make the most of each day, I recognize that it’s not a great day to process unpublished rough drafts or incomplete thoughts to see if they are worth publishing. It may not be a day conducive to fresh writing, but it’s also not really a great day for going back through old posts to see if they are worth republishing. It is instead a day to just be honest about where I am and move on.

I’m encouraged, though, because even on a day like today I’m trying. I’m not sharing a lovely life lesson or a glimpse from Scripture. But I’m still writing. I’m still doing. And I am continuing to build on habits and rhythms that will make it easier next time to either review well, write well, or just do like today and keep up the practice.

Not every thought makes it. But every thought has a purpose, even if it’s just to grow me toward the next thought. I’ll take it.