When we first got married, Tom used to worry whenever I got quiet.
"Are you mad at me?" he'd ask.
I'd look at him like, where would you get that idea?
"Of course not," I'd say.
"Is everything OK?" he pressed.
"Are you sure you're not mad? You're so quiet."
"I'm not mad! But if you ask me one more time, I'll be mad."
"Really? Because I just think you might be mad about something."
"Really. I'm not mad. I'm just thinking, ok? Sometimes I like to think, and I don't like to talk when I'm thinking."
"Well, what do you think about when you're not talking?"
"Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I think about the way my grandpa's barn smelled like hay, cow manure and WD-40. Sometimes I think about what I should do with my hair. Sometimes I wonder about faith. Sometimes I think about things I'd like to draw. Sometimes, I don't even really think. I just like being quiet."
"OK, just as long as you're not mad at me. You'd tell me, right?"
Tom has gotten so much better at accepting that I'm just not a big talker. I think he's realized that I need space to think and plan and work things out in my head...and simply be.
I've been quiet here on the blog lately. And no, I'm not mad at you! Where would you get that idea? Silly.
It's just that I've been thinking.
Thinking and working things out in my head as I finish up this book I'm working on. I'm not much of a multi-tasker - I'm a uni-tasker, and my book has taken up all my "tasking."
But this is a good thing.
I am in absolute heaven, if you discount the hours beating my head on my desk and staring at a blinking cursor while drinking coffee and eating pretzels. Other than those small details, this time of writing is very, very precious to me. And a fun, and pinch-me-because-I'm-writing-a-story-about-God's-incredible-sense-of-humor-to-send-me-a-donkey kind of wonderment.
I'm wrapping up the last chapter in the next couple of weeks and I am still just as excited about this project as the day I wrote the first word. I want to leave myself plenty of time before my June 1 deadline to edit, polish and make it sparkle. Then Tyndale's very nice editors can slice it up all they want and I'll be fine with it, knowing I did my very best.
So....for the next couple of weeks, I'll continue to be a little quiet.
Because I'm thinking.