. . . so I suppose I ought to jot down a few things. Life has been good. How many people get to say that? Not enough, I guess. I've finished a ten-week long Bible study that was so intensive that it took up my mornings. I had to learn to let go of less important things, including my writing. I squeezed in a few words now and then, but progress has continued to be slow. Though I must say, it's been liberating to take a step back, breathe, and put things into perspective. Personal growth has been the surprise and the blessing of the season. The novel will be there in the morning, and I'd rather live this life in a spirit of peace and confidence than in one of frustration, driven by self-consuming goals. The novel will be there in the morning.
The guilt for not working on it every second of every day, of not finishing it sooner, will not be there. And that's a relief. Even those of us with enviable lives have wounds, many self-inflicted, some not. It's good to find healing at long last.