There are days when I can’t even connect the dots of my own feelings enough to know what I’d say if I had the words.  The only phrases I can string together come from sad mad Country songs and I wonder if songwriters are always in a state of emotional conflict. 

Other days the sun is shining so blue that I know eventually the joy of it all will have to spill over into words.  But it’s so beautiful I don’t want to stop to analyze it, or to think about how it would sound to others who aren’t looking through the rose-colored glasses of this moment. 

A woman’s life is like spaghetti noodles.  Everything is connected.  The moods, the words, the days. 

If I only wrote when the sun was shining I wouldn’t paint a very accurate picture.  If I only wrote emotional lyrics to sad songs, I’d forget the gifts that fill my days in abundance.

So I write when I can find the words.  And on the days I can’t, I’m learning to leave the blank post for another day.  When the words connect sentences like the dots convey pictures.  When I can connect His truth to my life and be real at the same time.

^{{Five-Minute Friday in too many minutes on a Wednesday… “connect”}}