Day 128 Christmas Eve Epiphany

Christmas Eve.
When a holiday rolls around,

homeward bound I go—

into the wonderful isolation of a tiny town,

and my parents’ “cottage”:

no T.V. and no internet;

only the quaint company of neighborhood rabbits and birds.

This morning, I politely expressed the need to use the internet.

So, to the small, local library we went.

Dad warmed up his truck and scraped off the strangely thick layer of ice,

and then we (Dad, Mom, and I) squeezed in

(squished, actually, shoulder to shoulder).

And then came the attempt to put on our seatbelts…

which took way too long and was about to cause me some irritation

(as I’d already been waiting to go and was anxious to write)…

But then I decided to claim the moment—

How often do I get times likes these with my parents??

Heaven knows I will miss it when they are gone.

As soon as I realized that,

I let the time-crunch go;

soon we were all laughing hysterically!

With all the to-do of getting there,

we only had about 35 minutes left before the library was closing.

Hence, I only got one blog post written.

All of a sudden, my land of escape became a land of restriction.

I am ashamed to admit that my mood turned fowl.

After mumbling my complaints, I sat in silence the whole ride home.

As I sat on my bed staring at my parents’ computer

(which, as you know, has no internet connection),

it hit me--the most wonderful epiphany of all.

It was simply this:

“Am I living to blog or blogging to live??”

See, I started this blog to simply keep me accountable.

Accountable to ME;

to get out of feeling stuck in this season of life,

to embrace the freedom of singleness, and to truly enjoy the NOW.

Blogging should be the RESULT of my life, not the center of it.

How and when did this get flipped upside down??

Maybe I should embrace this vacation as a haven of needed isolation,

and get back to the heart of this journey.

If you do not hear from me for a few days, please know why.

Maybe we all need to take some time to reflect?

Lesson: live to live, not to write