“What do I do about that?”
“You’re a writer. You know what to do.”
“No, I don’t.”
Jordan looked at me with his furrowed brow again. “You put something on the page,” he said. “Your life is a blank page. You write on it.”
— A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller
Do you ever have days when it seems like no matter what you do, you just wasted the day? I feel like today was very productive, and yet here at the end, I feel very insecure about myself.
Maybe it’s because it’s Monday. Maybe it’s because I appear to be perpetually jobless. Maybe it’s because I just did all the tedious, normal, everyday things that are necessary but uninteresting.
Whatever the case, I feel stagnant.
I keep talking to God about the many different confusing, wonderful, beautiful, chaotic aspects of my life, and all I hear is simply,
The more I try to be still, the more I feel my life humming through my body, wanting to burst from my fingertips, my mouth, my eyes – wanting to be free and vibrant. The more I try to be still, the more I want to move. I want to live and be rash and impatient and foolish.
Be still. How can I be still when there is all this life within me that is being wasted?
Be still – but when I’m still, that’s when all the thoughts and the doubts and the fears and lies consume me. When I’m still, there’s nothing to distract me.