You know how when you drip a drop of paint into some water, and the color is so vivid and bright just for a few seconds? Then the color kind of blends into the water, slowly, and then you can't even see the color anymore?
I tried to take pictures to illustrate my point, but it was a small disaster. So I'm stuck with saying, "you know...?"
That's how my blog posts are in my brain. I get a big glop of a thought, an issue, an idea, and I just plop it on this blog, and then, with the weight of it off my mind, it just kinds of blends way into the other watery parts of my brain.
I like to blog when it's a big blob, because if I wait too long, I don't feel as passionately about it as I did before it got diluted. Sometimes I probably don't wait long enough, and the gloppiness is too evident. Maybe.
Here lately, though, instead of one big glop, my brain as been more like a rain puddle of little glops. Thoughts splash down on my brain and in my soul like little drops, coming so fast and so small that I can't grab hold of any of them long enough to sort through what's going on. The drops hit, then ripple into one another, and I'm left with sort of a rainbow throw up mish mash of all the colors of thoughts that haven't been processed.
You know, like how your kids think they are going to get a new magical, beautiful color when they mix all the colors in their paints together only to find out that what they end up with is a really gross brownish mess.
My brain feels like a gross brownish mess.
So it's been lots of praying and praise, trusting and waiting, loving and adoring. Maybe my brain works better this way. I'm certainly less theoretical this way. Less pondering. More floating and resting. Quiet. Still.
Enjoying all the seasons of my walk with Christ; Even the places we've never been before. Even when, all the while, I'm longing for the comfort of my overthinking.
I tried to take pictures to illustrate my point, but it was a small disaster. So I'm stuck with saying, "you know...?"
That's how my blog posts are in my brain. I get a big glop of a thought, an issue, an idea, and I just plop it on this blog, and then, with the weight of it off my mind, it just kinds of blends way into the other watery parts of my brain.
I like to blog when it's a big blob, because if I wait too long, I don't feel as passionately about it as I did before it got diluted. Sometimes I probably don't wait long enough, and the gloppiness is too evident. Maybe.
Here lately, though, instead of one big glop, my brain as been more like a rain puddle of little glops. Thoughts splash down on my brain and in my soul like little drops, coming so fast and so small that I can't grab hold of any of them long enough to sort through what's going on. The drops hit, then ripple into one another, and I'm left with sort of a rainbow throw up mish mash of all the colors of thoughts that haven't been processed.
You know, like how your kids think they are going to get a new magical, beautiful color when they mix all the colors in their paints together only to find out that what they end up with is a really gross brownish mess.
My brain feels like a gross brownish mess.
So it's been lots of praying and praise, trusting and waiting, loving and adoring. Maybe my brain works better this way. I'm certainly less theoretical this way. Less pondering. More floating and resting. Quiet. Still.
Enjoying all the seasons of my walk with Christ; Even the places we've never been before. Even when, all the while, I'm longing for the comfort of my overthinking.
2 comments:
Amy - I own this one too. I am brownish greenish puddle with stuff like pine straw, sticks and maybe a McDonald's straw floating in it.
And I enjoy your blobs, I mean blogs, regardless of size or consistency.
Glad to hear your voice today.
"My brain feels like a gross brownish mess." Okay - I totally resemble this line! Thanks for sharing!
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