Since the boy who almost left his shirt on my car bumper brought my blog back to life, I think it's fair to share what caused the temporary writing coronary.
I celebrated a birthday - November 5, 2010.
It was the best of times. Girlfriends and Italian food and big hair and presents. I can't wait to tell you about the presents.
It was also the worst of times. Thirty. Five.
A number that didn't sit well. It was like a plane that suffered some turbulence on the approach and then crash landed in the river. And not a Chelsy Sullenberger in sight to save it.
I felt sadness. And then more soul-crushing sadness. I couldn't pick out the guy in the lineup who had broken in and stolen my joy. I suddenly sensed I'd been left behind. Friends were married with children. And not married for 2 years, but 10. Their children weren't toddlers, but pre-teens. I had friends who spoke 3 languages and owned businesses and operated on brains and had passports.
I tried to conjure a list of all the blessings in my life. But the only thing I saw on the paper was a chicken scratched directory of missing moments and failed attempts at progress.
So writing about all the minor rabbits I still chased almost hourly seemed like placing a magnifying glass on all the major rabbits that were missing.
Blech. Part deux.
So I went radio silent. And not just with my writing, but with reading too.
This was my Google Reader as of this morning with more than FIVE THOUSAND unread posts. Como se dice "Holy Moly?"
I had forsaken my blog and any and all other blogs.
But it's a new day. One God designed for me. How did He manage to pull me from the funk? Well, there was some head patting and then some nudging and then there was a guy named Peter who tried to cross the road in Toms.
"Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do My best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious - the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not the things to curse." Philippians 4:8 The Message
P.S. I've settled my debts with 35. She and I are going to try and learn to live together amicably until her uglier, ignorant cousin 36 moves in.