That's the word for this morning.
For some unknown (or known only to the techno universe) my laptop's server refuses to acknowledge this blog.
So I write this little post and send it into space, hoping--ever hoping--that it will find an audience.
What I don't know about these things could fill the Library of Congress.
What I do know might be the size of a postage stamp.
It's a funny thing that the internet has brought into our lives. It's connected us in ways that make the world very small. We're truly a global village now. There are pockets where people aren't connected, and those people are usually considered to be 'off the grid.' Outside the norm, so to speak. Strange, that the norm is to be connected all the time in every way. Or they're not connected because they're primitive or backwards. Pejorative to be NOT hooked up to a computer or cell-phone every second? How did that happen? And how did it happen so fast? In my own life time--no, in my children's lifetimes--we went from only the elite having such things to ALL of us having them and having them as necessities.
And feeling frustrated when they don't do exactly what we expect.
They are our tools but sometimes--er, most of the time--I admit that it doesn't feel that way to me. I am at my computer's mercy.
And I am awed that I got to here. I was such a purist. I love the feel of a pen in my hand, I love how it feels to move it across paper, the look of handwriting covering a page. And, as I've said before, for me writing is so visceral it starts in the fingers of my left hand, gripping a pen.
Computers have changed that. Composing means typing now. But it's a less organic process for me because I'm less in control. There are more interruptions in the organic process of writing.
And there I stop.
That's exactly what I had in mind to write about this morning. Before I was even fully awake, the Holy Spirit and I were thinking together about interruptions. You see, interruption is one of my 'go-to' words in prayer. I constantly ask God to interrupt me from myself, or to interrupt someone else as he or she is going about his/her day. Interruptions as His way of slowing us down, getting our attention. For a single moment (or much longer at times) stopping the busyness and reminding us of what and WHO is really important. Interruptions as the best thing that happen to us.
We don't think of interruptions this way, but they really are. I have come to think of interruptions as the Holiest of moments in my day. And pay attention to what they might offer. What He might say in them.
Hmm, guess I should think of them the same way in the writing process.
Perhaps the Holy Spirit was preparing me for what He wanted to teach ME today.
Frustration to interruption to paying attention.
Yep, He's here and He is not silent.