the Traveling Writing Room
Last week as the TWR and I hid away writing, I also got a lot of thinking and praying done. One of the things I was reflecting on during those days was about following nudges. Do you know what nudges are? Let me give you a primer. It’s when you’re walking down the street and you see something in a window of a store and for some unexplained reason you go into the store and buy something you never intended to buy. You couldn’t help yourself and it turned out it was exactly what you needed. Nudge.
Or, you can’t get someone off of your mind, so you decide right there and then to pick up the phone and call them. Unbeknownst to you, they were having a really bad day and hearing your voice made all the difference. Nudge.
A nudge is a feeling, a pulling, it is your body, spirit or mind trying to tell you something or show you something about yourself or someone else. In the world I choose to live in, I sometimes call that nudge, the Holy Spirit, a part of Jesus he left behind to thump me on the head when I need it or to nudge me in a direction I’m conflicted about, or a nudge toward something that could be good for me, but I’m still fighting it. Now, if the term Holy Spirit is too other-worldly for you, you can call it a hunch, a gut feeling, or an itch that won’t go away. Whatever you call it, I’m here to advise you to start paying more attention to it.
After the Hubs died, my world morphed into a place I no longer wanted to be. I clawed my way through the long days because I was expected to. Eventually, when I got some feeling back, I began to notice this nudge toward something, several somethings to be exact, but I’m only going to tell you about two of them today.
I had not picked up a bow and arrow since high school. I was pretty good at it way back when, but I grew up and archery did not seem to be a skill I needed as a mother. (Of course, I’m re-thinking that now.) Walking through my house, the barn, the acreage, I kept feeling this thump. The thump got stronger until one day, I found myself in a sports complex sequestered in a narrow shooting range with a bow in my arms and an arrow pointed at an unfazed target. I took a deep breath, softened my knees and let the arrow fly. When it penetrated the center of the target, I felt the nudge slap me on the back and say something like, “See, I told you.” That day, a missing piece of me, fell into place.
The other nudge had practically slapped me silly before I finally gave into it. I was sitting at my kitchen table looking through a college continuing ed catalog when a beginner’s water coloring class jumped from the page, dialed the number listed and reserved me a spot in this class. I tried to cancel a few days later but was told the class was paid for and I could show up or not, but they thanked very much for my contribution. After I was sent my list of needed supplies, I spent an unholy amount of time in a hobby and crafts shop mulling over brushes, paper and paint tubes trying not to feel like a fraud. The first day of class as I rolled out my drop cloth, arranged my paints and brushes around me and filled my mason jar with water, another missing piece of me fell into place.
Nope, I’m not winning any prizes in the archery and painting worlds, but I’m more whole than I was before and that’s enough for me. I am humbled my little woes and sorrows caught Someone’s attention. The great Nudger has not given up on me. Oh, I still have some powerful thumps to my head I’m trying my best to ignore, but I know it’s just a matter of time before another piece of who I was intended to be will fall into place.
Later, P.S. The little darlin' in the photo is Grandchild # 9 showing her
MeMe how it's done