Knees Or Buns

I . . . delight to see how disciplined you are and how firm your faith in Christ is.

—Colossians 2:5

When Henry was three, he liked to stand on his chair at the dinner table so he could lord his tallness over the rest of us. It’s dangerous, not to mention annoying, to be lorded over by a toddler while you’re trying to eat. So we gave him a choice: knees or buns. He had to sit, but he got to decide whether to sit on his knees, kneeling, or on his buns.

Writing is a lot like dealing with a toddler. It’s helpful to feel as though I have choices, and for those choices to be extremely narrow. When I’m writing, I am free to sit anywhere in our house: at my desk, in the brown chair by the window, on the couch in the kitchen.

However, I cannot get out the tape measure to see what size rug to order for the living room, and I cannot wander from room to room collecting assorted members of the Justice League and throwing them back in the toy box.

Writing isn’t hard, but sitting down in the chair is really, really hard. I can sit anywhere I like, but I have to sit down, and then the hardest part is over.