‘R’ is for Writing

‘R’ is for Writing

I gently place my laptop, Ashton II, in its designated place on my desk –then plug in my Audio-Technica monitor headphones while pulling up the office chair that Mom and Dad gave as a birthday gift one year. Taking a seat I quickly scan through my music library, quickly passing many albums that have called me on one occasion or the other. Tonight electric is in the air, and something -a shimmering enthusiasm- is leaping and rebounding up the stairs from somewhere deep indside. Fernando Ortega –his music always carries me forwards to places I’ve never seen and back to dreams that I once believed in. And finally, I’m ready to begin this paragraph which you have just read.

I spent the greater part of this week on my knees. No, unfortunantly , not in prayer, but in combat with a floor. Our living room carpet was getting a bit ‘worn’ (worn being a gross understatment), and so the job fell to me to replace it with something far better. Sadly, before I could begin ‘replacing’ I had to first destroy the underlying theme –a rather stubborn chip board underlayment. This took the better part of Monday to accomplish in a fashion that satisfied me. The ensuing days only got worse, even with a strong hint of something actually being accomplished.
Tonight, though, I celebrate the fact that I’m finished with the main flooring job –without serious injuries such as broken backs, necks, or a double hernia from doing jobs that technically aren’t good things to do without two people, unless you’re a heavy-weight champ –which I most definitely am not
Tomorrow will be a day of true relaxing. A day spent learning at the feet of my master –wether his truth and will for me, or studying the language that will make me much more effective in Central America.

Another sleepless night, of turning in my bed,
Long before the red sun rises,
In these early hours, I’m falling again,
Into the river of my worries…
When the river runs away,
I find a shelter in Your name,
Jesus, only light on the shore,
Only hope in the storm.
Jesus, let me fly to your side,
There I would hide.
Speak your words to me.
Help me believe in what I cannot see.
Before the river runs away,
I will call upon your name.
Jesus, only light on the shore, only hope in the storm.
~ Fernando Ortega

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