I want to tell you a story, but I've no idea where to begin, or even what it should be about. I could tell you of how I miss my dog, of family traditions, or even quote passages of essays I once wrote. I suppose I could pick any topic and pour myself into is, reaching into the very corners of thought in search of some revelation, clarification, inspiration. I would much rather write with no purpose, no structure, no goal; just put pen to paper, fingers to keys, and see what happens to emerge. Even seeing words before me I can feel ideas coming into focus, thoughts settling in on their perch--intellectual Ritalin.

Surprising, really, what a little order can accomplish. I'm amazed how mush time I've found now that I have so much to do. Adding tasks to my schedule has refocused my priorities. I find I have even more time for things like this. Refocus. This weekend I was on the verge of breakdown, I put things off until they are actually worth stressing over, and then it hits me in waves--and I start to shut down in defense. So this weekend found me fighting the shutdown. I nearly buckled when I realized I would be losing an entire hour.

Refocus. Worship Sunday morning and reading scripture. I was asked to read Psalm 22, which led me to read Psalm 24. Who is this King of glory? Even after the morning of worship and prayer, my hands still weren't lifted. It took focus, me focusing on the data I had to collect, forcing myself into observation mode for this project I've been working on. And the sky was an incredible blue, the clouds perfectly placed. In the midst of the headstrong winds, a voice asking "Do you remember who I AM?"

Right. Lord of hosts, wonderful counselor, my strong tower. I just have to be reminded sometimes.