My room is full of stuff I used to do. My guitar and mandolin sit idly by, waiting. Various hand drums, penny whistles, and my accordion also wait. Felting, quilting and painting equipment call to me. These things enriched my life and met my creative need. Now I listen but don't play, think but don't do, and wish my hands and feet to work.
Hoping and praying for peace in this idle fills much of my day. The rest of the time I think about and pray for my husband and my kids, sometimes pulling away so my heart pain doesn't hurt them. (Fear or faith response? )Then God calls others to mind and I pray some more. My prayer is rarely the kind you hear at church, poetic and rich. It is short, sweet and to- the -point prayer,more like a conversation. This conversation had been ongoing for most of 50 years. You'd think I'd understand better! I must need to listen more I suppose. That part of relationship has always been hard but I'm getting lots of time to practice now. It's a lot like learning to play the violin: listening is the real work. Playing well comes after you've listened well.
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