First Love

There are things I never would've talked to my mother about and things I'd like her opinion on. I've been wanting to do something for quite a long time but have felt held back---by exactly what I don't know. It's not the voice of doubt telling me I can't---I learned how to silence it. It's not that I don't know how---I know just enough to be dangerous and what I don't know, I can find out. 

In the quietness of the morning it hit me. You see I want to go back to my first love but there'd have to be a change in the relationship and I'm not sure how my first love and my current love will get along. I want to go back but I'm just not sure I'm ready for the relationship to change. Before any of you start worrying, I'm talking about writing. But it does kind of remind me of girls who said they didn't want to date a guy who had been their friend because they didn't want to ruin the friendship. I never really got that, perhaps because none of my guy friends ever asked me out, but the thought did cross my mind. 

The relationship would definitely have to change. No longer could I treat my devotional writing casually, writing when I'm inspired. I'd have to be more committed to it because I'm thinking of being defined by it. I want to be published on my own as a devotionalist. I couldn't just dabble here and there like I used to, going for long periods of time without writing. It would have to become a daily practice to fit my dream. The dream is to be a published devotionalist that people want to keep reading new material from. I also love novel writing but I'm just not sure that relationship is going to last much longer.

It's sad to say but I'm just not sure I'm ready for a committed relationship with devotional writing. I'm comfortable with the "friendship" even as the dream calls to me. I've got characters in my third novel that need me to finish their stories. I know I can't give them the attention they need if I'm all wrapped up in this new relationship. 

(side note: because I'm comparing writing to relationships I now have a late 70's pop love/breakup song going through my head)

Sigh. Sure wish Mom was here to talk to about all this, because I know after she was done talking to me, she'd be talking to God. 

Edie Melson had a helpful blog post over at The Write Conversation yesterday and I couldn't wait to share what I learned. The second week of March is National Bubble Week. You should hop on over to Edie's blog (after reading mine of course) to find out other fun dates on the calendar. For now I'm going to stay with the bubbles: they're wonderful aren't they? I mean think about it, you take something that's usually used for a chore (dishsoap) and add a couple ingredients and give a kid a wand and watch magic happen. Suddenly soap isn't cleaning crud off dishes, it's clearing the grumpies and making room for smiles. And not just on the children's faces. Bubbles have transforming power on adults too.

I can remember a time when bubbles made me very happy. When I told Mom about it, she praised my cleverness. My daughter, her strong-willed grandaughter was about 3 years old. Her other grandmother was babysitting and my little girl didn't want to leave. But I had to get home and start dinner. I can't blame her for wanting to stay: Grandma Pat was blowing bubbles with her. I was not in the mood for a fight (whereas my daughter always was) and, thankfully, a brilliant idea came to me. I told my daughter the bubbles were going towards our house and we'd better hurry to go catch them. She jumped right in the car and off we went without a fuss. I'd tell you her reaction when we got home and there were no bubbles but I can't remember--I was too busy basking in the fact I'd impressed my mother-in-law. 

That little girl is 20 now and she still likes blowing bubbles. I've even gotten them for her on her last few birthdays. The only problem with bubbles is they're hard to describe to a blind person and I don't know if Mom blew bubbles in her childhood. But Mom could hear giggles and I suppose if I ever blew bubbles she would've heard the jingling of bells as I chased them around the yard. (For you newbies, that's a reference to the bells I had tied to my shoes when I was a little girl so Mom could hear me better when I was outside playing.) 

Bottom line is this: happiness is a wonderful thing to hear even if you can't see the source of it. So go ahead laugh out loud for the joy Christ has placed within you. There may be a spiritually blind person within earshot that needs to hear it.