Right now I'm in something of a holding pattern. I'm waiting. Waiting for editors to call. Waiting to hear back from about a dozen writers who have promised to contribute to a book I am helping to edit. Waiting for paperwork. Waiting on inspiration to strike. Waiting, in fact, while I am also working, working, working . . . .
The problem is, I don't like waiting. I like doing. I like accomplishing. I like results.
So that is why, whenever I'm waiting, I'm also reading and writing in those cracks and crevices, those tiny openings between one project or another. I'm reading as fast as my eyes will flow over the page. I'm writing as fast as my fingers can keep up with my mind. Sermons, essays, chapters, proposals . . . whatever strikes my fancy early of a morning, or late at night.
In the meantime, while I'm waiting . . . I'm rocking. Now, if only Becky would sit on my lap!