Skip to main content


I've been dragging along for awhile. There were some busy weekends without Adam, a lot of being woken up several times a night by a baby who wasn't interested in table food but whose tummy needed solid sustenance, a little bit of stress and whole lot of busyness... adding up to a weariness that permeated body and soul.

So I stumbled along in a fog, living in a sort of perpetual out-of-body experience where I watched myself make bad decisions (impatience, unreasonableness, clumsiness, mistakes...) I did what I could to recover - prioritized rest, ate well, drank lots of tea, and made sure that every day included a nice hot shower.

But as my body began to recover, I remained soul-weary. A tension gathered in my shoulders and crept up my neck, forming a headache that made cohesive thought a struggle. It lasted for days. Every remedy I tried, failed.

Finally, I crept onto the balcony with a heating pad wrapped around my shoulders and a journal in my hand after putting Brooklyn and Tobin down for their afternoon naps. I began to write the initial draft of a post, drawing inspiration from Ephesians and from a friend's book. My mind cleared, my focus intensified... and after half an hour of writing, the pain had seeped slowly down my arm, out my hand, and onto the page, leaving behind only a trace of soreness. A writer's cramp, not from writing too much, but from not writing at all for too long.

It's threatened to come back a few times since, but every time I sense it coming, I make time to sit down and write a few pages by hand - needed balm for a weary soul.

It's Five Minute Friday - a weekly flashmob of bloggers who gather, internet-wide, to write for five minutes (no stopping, no editing) on a prompt provided by sweet Kate, then link up and share a little comment love. For more info, more posts, and/or to join in, head here!


Miranda said…
Glad you got to write!!!

#fmf friend parked at number three this week
It's amazing how our bodies have a way of telling us what we need, if we were only to listen. Glad you have found your outlet! :)
Andrew said…
I'm so glad that the writing was therapy for you, Sarah Jo. And that the heating pad helped!

Barbara uses a heating pad filled with rice, that has to be warmed in the microwave; for her the combination of heat and weight does the trick.

#2 at FMF this wee - your neighbour!
Betsy Hart said…
writing can be so good for the soul! =)
Lynette said…
I'm so very glad that writing has given you relief. I remember those days of having little ones and being so tired. Time flies...youngest is 16 now. Now I'm weary from teenage matters. :-)

~way down at #76 this week

Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…