Technically, no.  I have plenty of creative juice.  It goes into my sermons; it goes into the classes I teach; it goes into the plans I have for my parishes.

But then I come home and I realize that I haven’t written much else–much that wasn’t work related in a really long time.  And that I have been taken pictures.  And that I haven’t been sewing.  Or engaging in my other creative pursuits.  (Although, really, those are the big ones, the ones I’d like to continue.)

But creativity takes time.  And energy.  Not just “sure I can get up and feed myself” energy, that special kind of energy that let’s my brain make those connections.  Those connections that make a sermon spark with the congregation and help a class connect ideas and begin to make conclusions and that give the parish plans hope.

And still, I miss the other things I did.  That I will do again.  Every now and then I miss them more deeply and have to remind myself that this is only a season of my life.  That it is right and good in its own way.  And that it too will pass.