scatter

my brain fills up too fast as of late.  all with the same focus:  job.

(and that's 'job', as in employment--not 'job', as in the guy that a whole lot of crap happened to in the bible)

it's time for less of me, more of God.

Lord, i'm going to keep praying about this til you're sick of hearing about it.  then you'll basically answer my prayer just to get me out of your proverbial hair.  do you have hair?  i guess, in the sense of humans picturing you with hair, you do.  but is it really made of the same stuff??

whoa, tangent.

Lord, take care of me.  i'm completely in your hands.  take me where you want me.

p.s. - i'm going to start writing.  i don't know what.  probably sketches.  or stories.  or plays.  or poems.  any of those things.