As the title suggests, my rope is frayed. How long can one person be expected to hang on? The knot in my rope and muscles in my hand are tired; actually, beyond tired.

There must be a new word for this feeling. Standing on a cliff’s edge not daring to look over the ragged edge. The lip of the escarpment feels as though it may crumble.

Do I jump? Will I get pushed? Gravity is no respecter of persons. My decision was made at my church’s Christmas Eve service. Like a flash of clarity I realized the cliff’s scraggly limit was actually more of a launching pad. If I jump, Jesus will catch me. If I fall, HE will teach me to fly. What lies beyond is not the abyss I had grown weary of.

In my spirit, I’ve been dreading the new year. Whatever lies ahead will surely be life-changing. I’ve felt excited and scared at the same time. My Godson says, “That’s the best feeling.” My response was, “I ain’t real comfortable with it.” For some reason, he found that amusing.

For a full year, there have been no words to share. Nothing for this scribe to capture in print. What does an artist do when the canvas is silent and the paints seem to hide? What does a jeweler do when the gems lose their luster. Can a musician find the lyrics when the melody becomes mute? Does the blacksmith stoke a fire when the anvil doesn’t ring true?

Finding my voice after a drought is a novelty for me. Writer’s block was never my issue. Not caring one whit about the blank pages I once called ‘home’; THAT has been hard to comprehend.

I sit in the floor at my mother-in-law’s house in Bonneau, SC. The rain falls gently outside and the muted conversations of my grandchildren drift down the hall. The over-all effect is one of peace as well as promise. I do not miss the Star Wars theme song which is finally silent. I can live with six movies and was happy with three. Whatever they are promoting now is too much for me.

The rain falls and my five-year-old (going on 15) granddaughter brings her kitty toy to share with me. (sigh) Whoever created the voice for that thing should be spanked and sent to bed without supper. Demented glowing eyes and it only has a head and a tail; no legs. What kind of cat toy has no legs?

It was 78 degrees here today. I thought it was Winter. I could use some ice-cream.

Why doesn’t your body let you know your leg is going to sleep BEFORE it happens? Maybe sitting in the floor isn’t the best idea I’ve had this evening.

Having slept with a squirming five-year-old the last two nights, she’s asking to sleep on the hide-a-bed. How fast can I say, “YES!” It is absolutely amazing how someone so small can take up so much space in a queen-sized bed. At least her feet are warm. πŸ™‚

Whether my drought is over or not, only my Heavenly Father knows. If you’re an artist, jeweler, musician or blacksmith, maybe you can share some feedback on your own creative journey.

Until another time, I’ll be Rambling On.