There are days, like today, when everything seems fine - well, mostly fine - and yet when I sit down to write, the process is similar to trying to catch sand with a net. Everything, all my thoughts, just sift through the holes. I can't hold onto them, can't make sense of them, can't tame them. They're illusive, slippery little buggers. In these moments, I will myself to be more disciplined, but we all know how often that turns out as we planned.
Why do I allow these internal distractions to steal my focus? It's as if they're robbing me of my story for the moment or for the day - and at the end of the day, I have no one to blame for this theft but myself. I could have lived a better story today, I'll be honest. But I let the noise of my cares drown out the story. I'm still in dire need of learning how to clear my mind of noise and fill it up with God. The good news is tomorrow is a fresh page and God is an ever-present teacher.