Day 45

I grew in a city that some people refer to as the "buckle of the bible belt." Church buses prowled my neighborhood on Sunday mornings looking for young converts. The old school bus I rode to the Baptist church was painted white. On the side in red script were the words: Jesus Loves the Little Children.

I loved the charismatic preacher who mounted the podium each week. He was kind and funny, but also stern and sincere. His pretty wife and two children sat in the front row. He would smile down at them before he began to speak. I imagined what it would be like to be his daughter.

He said that we were all children of God and I believed him. Of course there are times, he said, when the devil leads us astray. These were my favorite sermons. He would get red in the face as he told us stories about the men and women of the bible who had fallen from grace. Backsliders. That's what he called them. I loved the sound of that word.

It's the word that came to mind this morning as I was thinking about the journey I began on January 1. I made a commitment to the creative life. It is February 14th and I am already a backslider. I suppose it is the sin of sloth that I am most guilty of. I am avoiding the work. My accurately, I have allowed other activities to come between me and the work I feel called to do.

The writing has taken a backseat to other "obligations." Instead of treating the writing as something sacred, it gets relegated to a place on my to-do list between grocery shopping and email. Writing requires time and space and a mind that is expansive and free. My mind has been cluttered and frantic, crowded by the encroaching needs and demands of others.

I saw a documentary a few days ago about Charles Schultz. He was described by many as private, isolated, stoic. It was as if he was encased in a bubble where he lived with his beloved Peanuts characters. He retreated from the world to live there with them. Perhaps that is what the creative life requires.