Today, I’m at Nicole T. Walters’ rich and thoughtful space, A Voice in the Noise, with a piece about the division I feel between battling present burdens and hungering after the beautiful and the holy — as a person and as a writer.
In a small twist of irony, I enjoyed writing this post more than any other in recent weeks.
Do come join me and my stewed Kleenex there (I’ll explain below), and explore some of Nicole’s writing as you visit; her posts are as vivid and stirring as the adventures from which they spring.
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I once read about a woman who approached Elisabeth Elliot and said, “It must be wonderful to be able to read your own writings!”
To which the inimitable author replied, “It is like chewing on stewed Kleenex.”
On many days, reading my own words feels exactly that way.
