[The first couple paragraphs were written months ago, but quickly got sucked into the stresses of moving, new job, etc. So I'm back.]

If indolence was an achievement, my mantle would be crowded with the crowns, statuettes and medals of one who’s virtually made a career out of insecure resignation and incomplete projects.

This post is a sort of public examination of my writer’s conscience and apology for giving much less than I am able to. It took me a decade to realize–more than superficially–that I am smart. In all honesty (which is what humility is) I am really smart, and I have been given a suitcase full of talents and gifts on this little journey I’m on. But more or less for my whole life (there are a few exceptions), I’ve stashed my bag ‘o gifts under the bed where my will has been napping for decades.

I’ve always struggled with this sanguine tendency to be ultra passionate in the moment, which dies quickly once removed from the fire. Faced with a fabulous person, an interesting topic, or stimulating topic or conversation, I immerse myself. Then…..

Though I’ve been aware of this tension between my promise and my actual performance–I’ve labeled myself a consummate failure for years–it was really this past winter and spring (Lent in particular) when I finally read Lukewarmness: The Devil in Disguise, that I realized how seriously I’ve not lived my capacity for great things. Under the guise of forgiving myself for my humanity, I’ve ceded the struggle for holiness. This  simple but striking book about how little compromises in the everyday lead to calamity for the soul and the beneficiaries of our God-given gifts was a real cause for examination of conscience.

Now you may think I’m being too hard on myself, but that’s probably because you don’t know me extremely well. Despite my lukewarmness for the better part of five years, God’s used me to do some very cool things for his glory. However, that doesn’t mean I’ve been  as faithful to my interior life and hard-working as I could be, does it? No.

So, to my God I’ve apologized. To my past employers I apologize. To my friends and colleagues, I apologize. To all those who’ve invited me to write for them, I apologize for rarely or not delivering altogether. (Right Strat? Right, Joseph? Right Christina?) For the latter I am particularly contrite, because I’ve come to realize that not only do I love to write, but that I am called to write. I have a seed of artistry in me, which has been poorly sewn and stewarded for several years.

So, as I begin a new journey and challenge as small school administrator in rural Wyoming, pray that I will remember the gift within me, the call to cultivate it, and the imperative to persevere and to finish what I’ve begun. The Lord will bring to completion what He’s begun in me (Phil 1.6), and I only pray I can be faithful in the present moment, always moving forward.

1 John 4.4

Faithful blog readers and friends, thank you for your words and messages of encouragement in these last months of silence. Stay tuned for more….