I want to write about modesty. I've read two blog posts and had a conversation about one of them with my husband. I've touched on it before, but only slightly. I hesitate to even mention modesty, because I have a lot of friends and family who do not believe the same way that I do. I know even one sentence of such a subject will draw the ire of more than one reader. But do I write so I will be liked? Or do I write to remind myself of how God wants me to live (and in the process, maybe show others, also)?
I want to write about maturity, and being an influence on others, and why teaching the next generation is so important. Many people who don't know me think I am still a teenager. Looking at most teens nowadays, I want to take that as an insult. Looking back at my own life, however, I remember that even when I was a teen I was more mature than the teens now. People looked up to me and copied my way of life. Even so, I feel so inadequate as a young woman, and I would love to be in a Sunday School class where older women took younger women and discipled us. But then I would have to write all about how old people freak me out, and the last thing I want to do is sit in a room full of them for an hour. I would go into all the psychological reasons, and at the end, I would probably conclude that I can't wait to be old myself (although having not written all that out yet, I most certainly can wait).
I want to write about how encouraging it is to go on facebook and see a friend's status asking a biblical question, encouraging friends to post the results of our study into the same matter. How that, even though we are separated by space and even time, we can fellowship together and learn from each others' comments.
But I won't write about any of that today, because even though I have been at this for half an hour, my eyes are still tired and my son is still loud. My head still hurts, and my fingers are still searching. Instead of pouring out my thoughts, I will let them rest for now, gathering more dust and settling in a little farther. One day I will open the window to my brain and all manner of delicious thoughts will come flying out and it will be all I can do to capture them on paper before they paint the sky with their gossamer wings and disappear over the horizon. Today, let it suffice to say, I have thoughts, and they are probably profound. But let them be profound another day.