Nothing makes me more excited (or more anxious) than the blank page.
The possibilities are endless (exciting), and it’s up to me to navigate what needs to be said (anxious). This past summer has been a rather difficult one. Our first summer away from home, I faced work-induced trauma, and we tried three churches in three months on for size. I signed off social media, stayed in my head for at least 2 hours too long each day, and am now left with the dauntingly big question: what comes next? The good news, I don’t know the answer to that question. The bad news, I don’t know the answer to that question. The question becomes a metaphor; it becomes a blank page. I’m excited and anxious. I’m expectant and cautious. Good things come to those who wait, right?
Right?
Healing is a funny thing. It never occurs linearly. It’s up and down, to the right and the left. It’s hard to put into words the current state of my heart and mind, the location of where I am on my healing journey, but one thing I am committing to is the act of walking, moving. The future is exciting and scary, I don’t know what will fill the blank page, but I am determined to find out.