When it comes to writing.
I was really prolific over the weekend with two reflections--one on marriage and one on miracles (prompted by my seminary friend Mibi's question about miracles). Got them both almost finished--and haven't touched them again.
I'm my own worst enemy. I am out of a routine, which is deadly for me. Besides still working on the house, it is Sturgis Rally Week which is a huge disrupter of life as we know it in the Black Hills. Think having 200,000 extra people in town--all on motorcycles. And they don't all obey traffic laws. Everyone here who drives has almost hit a biker due to disregard for things such as waiting for stop lights, passing laws, etc.
And the roar of the bikers zooming up and down the canyon where I live does not ease until well after we go to sleep at night. After a few days, though, it becomes part of normal background noise. Ugh.
(I'm not a big bike fan--I worked as a nurse in intensive care for too long. We called them "donorcycles". Plus, a very destructive former lover in pre amendment of life days was a biker, the only guy I ever was with who rode.)
But, amidst the unsettledness and the noise, there are moments of grace. It is wonderful what I see in my own backyard here. This ewe and her fawns are frequent visitors, blessing us with their presence. They are reminders of sanity and simpler times.
So maybe my work ethic will improve next week...