season to learn

i started this fall with a pen in my hand. i thought i would do the writing and you could do the reading. i was convinced i had it all together, or at least that i could learn it all on my own.
how wrong i have been proven. how my heart longs for women of wisdom to speak into my life.
why do they expect us to write history on our own? as if every women has the time and the ability to write a unique story? who would have the longing to read that many manuscripts?
why can't we just add to the divine manuscript? because the story is already being written, there is no need for me to write it all.
there is so much more wisdom out there. so many others who have so much to say. and i am learning to listen. to put down the pen of arrogance and read the stories of the ages.
and i am so excited to read what, oh mother god, you are writing on my heart.

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