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“What are you thinking right now?”

It’s a common question – one that I’ve asked so many times when conversations grow still or eyes find their focus in that place that’s really no place at all. It’s the “where are you right now and is everything OK and are we OK and can something be done” and is there more to this moment than time speeding by as the clock slowly ticks. And the question is asked of me too, so I know it just might be a most impossible question to ever truly answer because our thoughts rarely are about the one thing but the many.

The so many.

I have a friend who says “list me” in an attempt to smooth the tangles into straighter lines. I’m not sure it truly works, but it does give permission for thoughts to be what they are in their beginnings, with little rhyme or reason or order – yet with purpose. So in this quiet moment before the day crowds its way in with demands, I sip my coffee and say “list me” to myself, because there are so many thoughts swirling about in my head.

I remain in awe of people who simply love Jesus. I am full of passion, and I am full of enthusiasm. But simple is hard.

I remember when I used to hate coffee. Maybe I still do, even though it’s part of every morning. My coffee doesn’t even have the same texture as coffee by the time I’m finished with it. I fail at coffee.

A beautiful young woman smiled at me and said, “I am content to do whatever God chooses – even if it means every dream of mine isn’t realized until I see Him face-to-face.” I say those things too, and I want to mean them. But do I really mean them?

One-two-three-four steps…it’s small steps, Ronne. And it’s like a dance, remember?

I wish English was better with its words. Of all the languages, we seem to be stuck with the one that is the most limiting and most open to interpretation. We don’t have “let’s define this thing a little more” variations on words like “friend” and “love” and “care” so we have to add so many more words to our words until things get cluttered.

My heart breaks for the brokenness of this world. There are days when the scripture that says “all creation groans for redemption” is the perfect and only right description. But I don’t allow that heartbreak to move me to action enough – because I am forgetful. I allow the immediacy of today to wash over the urgency of things that caused my heart to shatter in the first place. Today’s breaking news becomes tomorrow’s last-segment soundbite. I raise a flag high and then let it fall because my eyes wander and my hands get distracted. And my heart breaks for the brokenness of me.

I wish there was a way to keep a cup of coffee truly hot.

Writing coach. Business coach. Life coach. Agent. I wish I knew which one I really need right now as I take this big dream of writing a book and producing a documentary and telling a story that changes stories and…

One-two-three-four steps. Take a little more with You, show me one more step in the world. The same song is playing over and over again in my head.

Of all the things that have been invented by now, why isn’t teleportation a reality? This needs to change.

I wish I liked Christmas more. Or maybe it’s I wish I liked Christmas differently. I wish moments could be wrapped and placed under a tree, because gifts are so quickly forgotten. If I could, I’d wrap up experience after experience for every friend and family member. I’ve made a list before of what I would give them, and I’ve revised it over the years. It looks something like this:

  • Hug an orphan in a foreign land, forgetting for just a moment that you are different and celebrating all you have in common.
  • Get caught in a rainstorm.  In a jeep on back-country roads.  With the top down.
  • Sit quietly in the midst of the snow in the Rockies and just listen – the sound is a symphony.
  • Eat an excellent picnic lunch, and then lie on the grass and look at the sky – and then imagine yourself letting go and falling up into it.
  • Stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon and watch the colors change as the sun sets on the rocks.
  • Build sand castles, and then sit on the moonlit beach as the waves crash and the tide rolls in to fill every nook and cranny.

I wonder why nights are hardest. Sick gets sicker, pain gets more painful, troubles seem more troublesome, fears mount. Maybe it’s to remind us that there are always new mercies coming. Maybe it’s to keep us vulnerable. Maybe it’s to remind us of just how busted up we are. Maybe it’s to keep us reaching out for another hand to hold.

I think some days should be designated “stay in bed and feel no shame” days.

(Silence – and a prayer for my husband because there’s something I want more than my own dreams to come true, and that’s for his dreams to come true, for his dreams are beautiful and he has been waiting faithfully and the time is now, please.)

I was asked if I spend more time pondering the “what if” of the past, the “what could” of the present, or the “what might” of the future. Asking someone who ponders a question about pondering is a dangerous thing. I am still pondering.

This world needs more big-belly baby laughs.

The more I see how God is using imagery as part of the way I tell story, the more I think a real camera would be nice. (Silence, and I pray for contentment – again).

I don’t know what I would do without prayer. It’s the closest thing to a superhero power I know.

These words. Living these words. Why can’t we live these words? But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor, be compassionate and loyal in your love. And don’t take yourself too seriously— take God seriously.” ~Micah 6:8 MSG

I need more coffee.

I need to get dressed. I’ve got things to do. So many things. The list is long. Always long.

I think my purpose is to tell stories that change stories. But what if my purpose is to begin a dream that someone else will bring to life? What if I am here to be a catalyst or conduit, to cheer and to connect and to live in the wings rather than ever on the stage? Could I be content with that? Thankful with that? I pray I would say “yes.” (Silence – and I lift up my hands because I want the answer to be “yes” to the “whatever.”)

Today, I hope I remember that I am not as important as I may appear when I get puffed up and thump my chest and demand my way. Today, I hope I remember I am infinitely more valuable.

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What are the thoughts in your head? List me.