This is one of my favorite places to think. It’s a park near my home, and a frequent refuge for me, especially in the winter. I am not a fan of long stretches of dreary days, and we’ve had a lot of them this season. In fact, back in the fall, we went for almost six weeks without the sun. As winter crept over us, sunshine still remained a rarity, sometimes only making a brief appearance for an hour or so, then more clouds.
I began to crave sunlight the way a thirsty man desires water. At the least little hint of it, I’d dash to a window or grab my coat for a walk. If there was a promise of a few hours, I’d flee to the park, where I’d sit on a bench and soak up the light, or take a brisk walk on the exercise path.
This is the way I am about writing. When I’m blocked or have to focus on editorial projects, I crave that creative release in the same way. And I go a little crazy in the same way, with mood swings that become so odd that even my non-writing friends start asking, “Have you written anything lately?”
More intriguing to me, however, is that I get this way about God. I don’t always get to church, but if I go for very long without praying or talking with other folks about God, I get a little squirmy, as if something’s just not right, as if I’ve forgotten something important. Which I have.
So my restlessness tells me it’s time to “dash to the window,” so to speak. To seek that renewing Light. Only, unlike the sun, this Light craves me as much as I desire Him.
Definitely a reassuring thought on a cold, dreary day.