Timed Writing

A good in real life friend of mine writes over at The 4 Minute Blogger, and he occasionally posts witty, thoughtful, and surprisingly long posts considering that at the outset he determined to allot 4 minutes a day to writing.

{By the way- it's been quite some time since he's written...maybe this will be a little uptick in traffic and he'll get re-inspired...? }

Sometimes we chuckle together as fellow bloggers since we've learned that given our personality, distractable lives, technical difficulties, and every day responsibilities, it's very unlikely that 4 minutes will remain a realistic limit, although it is still a catchy name.

Oh, the days are full,aren't they?  And no matter how many pithy, winsome, charming, and beautiful posts I write in my head while doing something else, the real nitty gritty of it is that to regularly engage in this space is a commitment of time on many levels.

When my kids are taking formal writing classes they have an instructor who practices timed writing drills in her classroom.  A great benefit to their budding craft, they are forced to organize and present their material in the time allotted, and then anticipate that their work will be peer and teacher evaluated for feedback and a grade. I've observed their skills grow stronger the more often they engage in this type of exercise.

Up to this point I've been pretty generous with myself and not put a great deal of structure around how this place of writing grows.  But, I think I'm to a point on many levels where I need to look square in the face of the gift of time and parcel out enough, but not too much, for practicing presence in this place.

There's no greater message here.  I'm not pulling back or taking a blog break.  What's happening, I think, is that I'm coming to understand how valuable this time of thinking, developing, chronicling, and journaling is becoming.  And therefore, I want to keep time here-protect and preserve it.

I glanced at the clock before I began and "allowed" myself  30 minutes.  Twenty of those 30 are already gone.  So, I must close out this Monday afternoon ramble, upload some pictures I took for us, and engage in the precious moments of chronicling the gifts I've chased and have so abundantly received this week.

Last week I confessed that I've been writing a list of gifts for so long now that I've quite lost track of what number I'm on.  Since I link to a community of lists I've decided that I can at least begin again to number the gifts by month.

February 2012: #1-#12

• Having great fun and creative reward using new to me technology to photograph and capture the days.
• Struggling for days and days with private rebellion and this song undoing me as I prepare and practice for singing with a worship team.  The struggle persists, but I am softened, contrite, and seeking restoration.
• A precious friend inviting the three youngest over for play every Monday afternoon-loving me with service.
• The house kitty amusing all the children so that they crowd into our tiny bathroom to observe him walking the edge of the tub, ferociously batting at the fuzzy something suspended on the surface of the water.
• Yummy recipes found on Pinterest-yielding the time spent there productive since we've been making what we pin.
• Sweet saints at church inquiring about my parents and offering to be tested for a stem cell match for my dad.
• Glorious, glorious, glorious weekend sun pouring out warmth, and golden hope.
• Quiet cozy curled up in blankets time with Weekend Farmer Husband relishing a day of rest.
• Firstborn son giving gifts of service and time.  His teachable spirit.
• Rich, artful, soul reaching books.
• A friend I've met only once, writing from wisdom and experience and encouraging me to grow intentionally in the practice of my faith.
• Have I mentioned the sun...? :-) Oh. My.  My heart is still singing and my knees bowed down to Creator God for giving us such a day yesterday.

Well, for the record, I've exceed my time limit by better than 10 minutes-but I'll not fret.  My cup overflows and although I cannot ever get those moments back, I'll never regret chronicling the abundant life.