A Fresh White Page

It's a curl-up-on-the-couch, read-a-book kind of day.  If only I had purchased that Snuggie!  Instead, I've darted in and out of the car today juggling my umbrella.  The wet and cold chills my entire body as I rush into the library for a brief one hour. It's almost time for my yearly hibernation ritual, I think.  When the air becomes brisk, especially to the extent that I catch my breath, I get this urge to do what bears do.  In fact, I'd sign up for curbside delivery of my groceries during this frigid time of the year.   If only!

I'd recently returned from a writer's conference in which the speakers encouraged the attendees to write something every day.  This exercise is supposed to turn on the faucet of words.  So, I've trekked to the library to do my due diligence.  I'm hoping it works because yesterday as I stared at the computer screen, willing something to come forth, I eked out one measly paragraph.  I wrote and deleted a million times.  Nothing was right. Nothing was good enough.  Nothing was perfect!  In desperation, I closed the computer and started dinner.  That's one exercise I perform daily and have perfected. 

I position myself at the table and stare out the window at the gray and the rain that looks like the inside of my mind.  I will the words to form, so I can complete my task.  I mull and agonize over words, phrasing, similes, strong nouns and verbs.  I cross out which isn't quite as pretty as the delete button.  The page is smeared with ink; it's ugly.  I wish I could start over with a fresh white page.  A ray of light pierces my mind, and it occurs to me that God has already given me a fresh white page!  I don't have to be perfect; it's more than enough that He is.