Sunday, September 08, 2013

White Space

It was just over a week ago that I looked at the massive amount of emails piled up in my in-box at work and decided that I had to do something about them.  Over the next several days I spent time sorting; responding; filing and deleting--until finally--pristine, dazzling white space stared back at me from my computer screen.

Ever since that splendid moment of triumph, I have waged a daily battle to hang on to it.

Partly because it has been such a busy summer at work, I found that I had no energy to write. I was even beginning to wonder if my well of inspiration had dried up--was my season to write, over?

It felt to me; not only about writing, but about a few other things too; as though God had pressed the "pause" button. 

Just like my father, who in gentlemanly fashion always walked on the side closest to the traffic when we were out together, and when were about to cross the street, put his arm across my chest like the barrier at a railroad crossing, holding me back until it was safe; it's felt like God has been holding me back, and by doing so, giving me the gift of space.

Today I realized what a gift that space has been. And not only the space, but the inner freedom to accept the gift.

There is peace in waiting for God to say, "Go."

Fall is a time for new notebooks, full of pages just waiting to be written on. 

A time of new beginnings.


Stepping Stones said...

I've missed you. Missed sharing in your discoveries. I hope fall, and all those blank notebooks (I LOVE new books - so much potential and possibilities)brings lines of the joy of life. Of course we couldn't even read the lines if there wasn't some space between them.

Marilyn Yocum said...

Thank you for this. I've been without words, so much to say but unable to speak any of it, wondering if my writing days are over. Your post is a timely reminder. This white space is a gift. I need to treat it as such.

Thank you, friend!

Belinda said...

Dear Friend at Stepping Stones, Thank you so much for your comment and the wonderful point you made about the space between the lines. That is beautiful and so apt.

Belinda said...

Marilyn, it did me good to read you last night on your blog and see that you too, have had a spell of silence. It truly is okay, isn't it? It doesn't mean that our instrument is out of the orchestra, just letting the rest play on until we reappear! Ha ha! (That's just me freshly back from "Last Night at the Proms!" :)

Dave Hingsburger said...

It is nice to see you here again. Without pauses, there would be no music, only noise ...

Belinda said...

Dear Dave, Yes! Why don't we realize it? We should welcome the pause! :)