I spent many years in seminary and in part time ministry, and then burnt out rather quickly in full time ministry.  Who knows what it all means?  Wendell Berry says, “We live the given life and not the planned.”  He meant this, I think, in a joyfully free way: We don’t have to plan, or worry!  Life has been given to us!   Now I am doing freelance editing work, and nannying part time, two jobs that I am good at and that I love.

I live in an intentional Christian community, where we strive to learn what it means to “live the church” seven days a week.  This has been really hard and has probably saved my life.

From time to time I also write short stories and send them to editors, who cheerfully send me rejection letters. I then send them more stories. Sometimes I fear we’re trapped in a co-dependent relationship. I also write poems and (vanity of vanities) post them on my blog. Sometimes I blog true things that happen to me (peripatetics) and sometimes I blog stories (poetry and prose), but often you can’t tell the difference.

Lately I have discovered that it’s okay to draw badly.  It may even be necessary.  The perfect white of my sketch pad and the perfect rainbow of my pencils, paints and oil pastels have been replaced with something that looks like a human lives here.  I decided to call this “art therapy” since I can’t really justify the expense of having myself committed.

I would still be lost without the ability to get lost in a good book.  If it takes you more than one try to get through that last sentence, maybe this ought to give me some idea of why the rejection slips keep coming.

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(That’s all there is.  There isn’t any more.)