Packet of Wildflower Seeds

I have had some medical mysteries over the past year that remain unsolved. While they are relatively minor in nature, I generally catch a ride on the "worst case scenario" train and end up fretting that I am dealing with something serious that will only become more difficult to manage because it wasn't identified early enough. I am usually afraid while waiting for my appointments. And yet... There are other times I think to myself, "maybe God is finally giving me the end I requested." I try not to indulge in such thoughts, but there are moments I can't help it. Then I wish I would have my answer sooner so I could just get it over with. I ponder what would happen after I was gone. Who would come to my funeral? Did I make enough of an impact on any of my students that they would show up? Some of my friends live out of town; I don't see them very often anymore. Would they think the journey was worthwhile? Heck, some of my friends live in the same city, and ...

I write for a lot of reasons.  Sometimes, I simply like the way a word sounds or the feeling it evokes, so I craft a poem around that one word. "Obsidian" was my favorite word for a long time. It conveys depth, mystery, glossiness, and darkness all at the same time. Several poems from high school feature that term. Other times, I am writing to sort through my emotions. I've shared several examples of that already. Writing can be very therapeutic, though I admit it is powerless against my strongest episodes. Many times, I am writing to tell a story. A couple years ago, I shared my short story "Faded Glory," a ghost tale with a Civil War twist. In grade school, I would craft stories with my best friend as we explored the worlds of Star Wars  and  Pirates of the Caribbean.  I may share more about those in the future. Today I would like to talk about stories that also serve an emotional purpose. I have written tales and poems in which I allow myself to experience th...