Unfinished

I usually like to do things in an orderly fashion.  I don't start several projects at once.  I like to complete one and then start another.  I don't like chaos.  I really don't like it.  Grieving has been an interesting journey for me thus far.  I find that I have mini peaks and valleys a midst the larger, more obvious ones.  There are times that I can't move or think.  But there are also times, when I am on the uphill portion of any given valley, that inspiration or revelation or whatever you want to call it, it flowing so quickly that I am afraid that I will miss something.  I write EVERYTHING down.  I try to write it in the moment.  It is so much more potent and I can capture more of it than if I wait.  I drive in my car and talk to my phone (it takes notes for me).  I talk to my iPad.  I have a huge list of things that I need to: Ponder on later.  I feel like there are times that, if I stop to ponder for too long, the next idea will come and go, and I will miss it.  It is like drought and then torrential down pour.  I try to grab buckets and catch every little drop.  I'm afraid that if I miss it, it won't fall again.  When I feel  drought, I go back to the long list of: things to ponder on later. 

I know that the veil was very thin when Eli was inside me.  It was barely there when he was born.  It has been very thin, but has started to thicken more and more.  I feel it.  It is almost tangible.  It is unmistakable.  I want to catch all I can while it is thinner.  I don't want to forget anything.  So...my normal mode of being neat and tidy and non-chaotic has disappeared.  I have 26 blog posts started that have not been finished.  I have a note in my iPad about 11 more ideas that I have (and about 15 more in my head).  After I had Eli, I kind of wondered what I would do with the blog.  I thought I would tell the story (whatever that was....) and it would fizzle and die.  I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this, but I have a lot I feel like I'm supposed to write.  I have no idea where this has come from.  I feel like I have always had a lot in my heart and my head, but never figured it was worth putting on paper.  I had no credibility to talk of these ideas (or so I thought).  

But, I think this particular trial is something that most people can at least imagine happening to them on some level.  It includes loss...everyone has faced that.  Maybe not in a death, but we have all lost something...even if it was just our lucky shirt.  It includes uncertainty...everyone has felt that.  It includes anger...I'm sure that includes everyone except my one friend, Jenna, who has only been kind of mad once in her life.  I mean that as a compliment.  It includes the fiery trial of your faith...if that doesn't include you, it will.  It includes deep, deep sorrow and exquisite joy.  It includes a lot of things that most people can relate with.  And most people either have children or yearn to some day, so this is something everyone can see, if not fully understand.

I said that I had no idea where this has come from.  That isn't true.  I know exactly where it has come from.  It came from Eli.  He has a strong and immovable and determined spirit.  He isn't afraid of the things that most of us are afraid of.  He has that, and I have a connection to him.  I happen to have a computer and a keyboard and two hands. And together, something is happening.  I'm not sure what.  I get nervous that I don't know the end.  It's like I want to wait until I know where this road is going before I speak up.  But it is more exciting this way, don't you think?

Here is a picture of all the books I was reading when I thought of writing about this (not to mention the 9 tabs I have open in my iPad with conference and BYU devotional talks...mostly from Holland and Maxwell, of course):

I have since finished 2 of these books and started 4 new ones.  I am starting more ideas than I can finish...but there's time for that later...