Writing

I love to write. I have always loved to write. So why, lately, have the words not come quite as easily? Part of it is how I have been feeling. But another part is, I am just the pregnant mom of three young kids and a big dog living in another country.

It's hard to accept that maybe I won't have "the time" for writing that I would like, but I am learning that that might just be the case. I have so many things that demand my time that this might be a season where things that would just like my time get pushed back a little bit.

I find there is so much during the day that I want to document. But often, I can't get to the computer to do it. I have a pad (or papers in multiple rooms) that I try to write things down on -- trying to not forget the moments of my current life.

For example, at bedtime tonight, here with the two conversations I had:

Isaac: "Mom, we need to trust God. God is Jesus. Jesus is God. But Jesus died. So he's in heaven. And someday, but not soon, we will die too, and be in heaven with him."

Contrast that to Sidge's conversation with me while he laid in his bed.

Sidge: "Mom, when you cut something, it is snipped. It just goes snip."

Pretty much just small talk but worth writing down all the same.