Why I Can’t Write
The stories God is writing on my heart
Welcome to Walk & Talk, my monthly offering to share stories, inspiration, and hope. I’m Kim Knowle-Zeller, mama, pastor, and writer. I’ve lived in West Africa and one summer hiked 500 miles across Spain, and now I call Cole Camp, MO home with my husband, two children, and dog. I love to walk, talk, and share stories. Thanks for being here!
I can’t write because when I come to the porch in the morning before anyone is awake, I hold my coffee with two hands watching the steam rise and feel the warmth as I savor the first sip. Some mornings a gentle rain falls or the branches dance in the wind; the scent of petunias fill the air. The hummingbirds come to refresh themselves. Rather than pick up the pen, my eyes feast on the beauty before me.
I can’t write because the dishes by the sink are never done. When I switch the laundry I find towels from our day swimming at the lake that need to be folded. The kids’ papers from the end of the year still need to be sorted. The zucchini and kale in the fridge need to be made into something before they go bad. There are meals to plan and shopping trips to Aldi and Costco for snacks.
I can’t write because the dining room is strewn with books. There’s a pile of Charlotte’s books on the couch — My Weird School and Whatever After. Dog Man and Cat Kid Comic Club are on the other end. Dinosaur poems and animal poems and books about North and South Dakota pile atop each other on the table. I can’t write because I’d rather be swept away into the stories of the books I’m reading, and perhaps make a dent in my library loans. I can’t write because we spend hours nestled together immersed in the world of story.
I can’t write the essays and poems and stories that are swirling in my brain because I want to capture the memories from our vacation1 in my kids’ journals. I want to tell them how this was the first trip in recent memory where I wasn’t ready to come home. I wanted to remember how it felt together — the long days in the car and the nights reading Mr. Popper’s Penguins together in one bed; the marvel of the Badlands, searching for fossils, spotting the first Bison, listening to the prairie dogs chatter, my daughter riding a horse through the prairie, the magic of seeing a whole new landscape, and listening to Laura’s Little House story as we drove through the prairie.
I can’t write because there’s still thank you’s and postcards to send. A stack of stationary and stamps sit on my desk. And speaking of my desk, I can’t write because of all the piles of papers! There’s the library summer reading program dates that need to be entered in my calendar, the to-do’s for my part-time work, and medical papers still to be filed.
I can’t write because there are friends to see and parks to play at, there are long afternoons walking with friends and hours at the pool jumping from the diving board and perfecting underwater backflips. There are messages that need to be answered and phone calls made.
I can’t write because my kids used to be of the age where they were in bed at 7 pm and I had my evenings to myself, but now once we settle them in bed closer to 9 pm, I’m ready to collapse myself.
I can’t write because the nights are spent at the softball field holding my hand up to keep the setting sun from my eyes. To get ready for the games we go to the front yard first thing in the morning to practice batting and catching.
I can’t write because the garden is full. The cucumber vines are wrapping around our trellis and the sunflowers are reaching towards the sun. I planted the tomatoes and peppers the day before a violent storm rolled through, and yet, this year more than any other, all our plants are thriving. The weeds are equally as lush and abundant and never seem to be finished.
I can’t always put pen to paper in this season of life, but when I take a moment to sit and reflect, I see that God is writing a good story in our lives. A story that is best lived in person and experienced with others.2
A few other things to share
For Living Lutheran this month I wrote about my son’s joy in watching rain fall thanks to his teacher. “Rather than focusing on the students’ worries, his teacher invited their awe. The rain and storms were not to be feared but to be marveled at. A class of 5- and 6-year-olds were connected to one another and to the wonder of creation.”
I LOVE this list of 60 Screen-Free Summer activities!
After visiting two National Parks on our recent vacation (Theodore Roosevelt NP and Badlands NP), my kids are all about the Junior Ranger Program! They completed the packets and tasks to become a Jr. Ranger, complete with an oath and badges! You can find so many amazing resources on their website and do some other badges from your home.
What I’m Reading:
The River We Remember by William Kent Krueger
First Lie Wins by Ashley Elston
Coyote Lost and Found by Dan Gemeinhart
What I’m Cooking:
My penpal, Annika, gifted our family with a homemade Almond Cake when we arrived in North Dakota. I immediately knew I needed the recipe. I bought this Almond Cake Pan Annika recommended that comes with the recipe.
I’m here for all the easy meals this summer. This Sheet Pan Garlic Ginger Chicken & Broccoli was a hit for everyone.
A few years ago in June, I traveled alone by airplane. Waiting in line at the check-in, a woman in front of me tapped her foot and kept checking her watch. She gripped a wad of tissues in her hand. I asked if she missed her flight. "Yes," she said. Tears pooled in her eyes, I held the silence with her and then she told me, "My dad died this morning."
My heart broke. It was Father's Day.
But I also remembered being in a similar position racing in the airport after my dad died. I remember how being in the air *almost* made it feel like nothing had happened and that I was just having a bad dream. I remember the fog of walking through the next few days and the texts from friends. I remember not being able to breathe.
That day in front of me I saw this woman's grief, and my own. In the few moments while we stood in line, I didn't tell her any of those things, but I did ask her the name of her dad.
Tim.
Because I want to remember with her. To show in some small way that she's not alone.
I hear the saying we’re all just walking each other home. But really I think most days we’re just trying to find a piece of home right here, right now. And we want someone to remember us.
So grateful for you, friend! It’s an honor to know you’re reading my words. It’s a joy to be connected and hear your stories. I hope we can continue to walk and talk for years to come.
P.S. I have a favor for those of you who have read The Beauty of Motherhood. Would you be willing to write an Amazon review? They are so helpful for getting others to know about our book! Anyone can review on Amazon whether you’ve bought the book from them or not. Thank you!
More to come on our family vacation to North and South Dakota! We visited my pen pal of 33 years!
Love this!! And yes, it's so hard with the kids staying up later to get some downtime in the evenings!
I so enjoyed reading this, friend! Such a lovely, relatable collection of memories -- thank you for sharing. 💗