Last week, I had Lasik surgery. It's pretty amazing that in ten minutes a surgeon can use lasers to correct vision that has been poor for most of my thirty years.
My eyes haven't completely adjusted to their new lives without contacts or glasses, and they get tired after staring at the computer screen for too long. Hopefully, I will be able to get over that quickly and get back to writing.
I loved reading your comments on my previous post. Everyone had some great things to say about why we write.
From the beginning, I've questioned why I have this desire to write, and I learn more and see it differently with every step I take. I often think about a scene from Hinds Feet in High Places by Hannah Hurnard. I was going to try to describe it, but I couldn't do it justice. Here's an excerpt:
Still there was silence, a silence as of the grave, for indeed she was in the grave of her own hopes and still without the promised hinds' feet, still outside the High Places with even the promise to be laid down on the alter, Much-Afraid repeated the glorious promise which had been the cause of her starting for the High Places. "The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds' feet and he will make me to walk upon mine High Places. To the chief singer on my stringed instruments" (Hab. 3:19)
The priest put forth a hand of steel, right into her heart. There was a sound of rending and tearing, and the human love, with all its myriad rootlets and fibers, came forth.
That's my prayer. That God will rip out all of my hopes and dreams and make space for His love and His dreams for my future.