I don't do a lot here.
I don't have time to upload an abundance of really creative pictures. I don't really have a lot of time for social media or self-promoting. To be honest, the latter makes me a little queasy.
I homeschool. I take care of my home. I read books and knit. I spend time with my beautiful, life-giving family and friends.
And I write.
I write because it burns always within me and the more I do it, the deeper I float. I write because it is life-giving and brings me to a place of complete surrender.
Social media doesn't do that for me. Uploading pictures doesn't do that for me. I despise HTML and I abhor anything that forces me to learn it.
I write about our day, my day, the day of the random person down the street. I write about my mind and where it goes and how it spins. (You may want to skip those. They are boring and confusing.) I write about picking up my cross and following my Christ to a hill of self-sacrifice bound for holiness.
I'm a massive failure deliriously drowning in grace.
I like to write about that, too.
It's simple around here.
And really pretty quiet.
Because writing, for some of us, is a calming, adrenaline-inducing, God-seeking event. For others of you, it is not. Your cup of tea dissolves a different kind of sweetener. You take beautiful pictures, create masterpieces with your pen or sewing machine, or any other of the countless varieties of outlets.
I love to see the creation of God creating.
But for my part, I create mostly rambling, run-on sentences. I do like other things. Like knit. Or exercise. Or eat. (Chocolate mostly.)
But my favorite? What I come back to when simplicity knocks at my door and begs me to come out and play?