Marinade

Ken knew something was up.  Might have been the look on my face or the way my body suddenly grew stiff that got his attention.  He stares at me, puzzled by my odd behavior.   Having been caught in the act, I innocently ask, “What?” in response to the smirk, which has settled across his lips.

“What? Is that all you have to say?” Ken remarks, moving closer to me.  “What’s with you and that weird like trance?”  Nothing gets past him so I confess, “Well, if you must know – I’m marinating.”

“What?” is now Ken’s only appropriate response!   Shaking his head accompanied by a hardy laugh, he questions what he just heard, “Marinating?”

“Yes, exactly.” I continue to explain, “I sometimes get a thought or an idea.  I write it down - so as not to forget. “  Ken leans in for further clarification.  “What you witnessed was me letting it rest, letting it absorb into my heart, turning it over in my mind and giving my imagination permission to run wild.”  I may have gone too far explaining – but I’m enjoying the bewildered expression, which has now settled upon Ken’s face.   

I cease any further enlightening – choosing instead to keep the creative process of “marinating” a secret.   I’ve only recently come to understand it myself.  For whenever I’m given the gift of a thought – I cannot rush its development.   I must separate my own understanding and wait for the revelation of something greater than myself.  I have become good at receiving inspirational thoughts.  But that is where it ends.  For the work is in the marinate – which has little to do with me and everything to tenderizes and add flavor to an idea.  I just need to step aside, believe in the process and give the Holy Spirit “a little” wiggle room to create a masterpiece within me. 

With any luck, the right amount of marinade will give life to a story which all began with the gift of a single thought.