Today is a writing day, not because I discovered something utterly profound and thought provoking.  No.  Today is a writing day because I actually don’t have anything figured out.

After speaking with a friend, who not only seems to know the will of God for his life but has already articulated it in a six-page Word document, I say, “To each their own story and script.”

Granted, as my story continues to progress, it’s looking more like scribbles on scratch paper than a spiral-bound notebook, and my script contains more interrogative than declarative statements.  Nevertheless, with my one-way ticket receipt still open on my desktop, I am comforted by memories of traveling with my daddy.  Back then, I didn’t worry about itineraries.  I didn’t worry about the will of Stephen Wee for my vacation time.  I didn’t worry, period, and I didn’t have to know everything.  I just followed along, stayed close, and simply enjoyed being with him.

In the end (or the beginning of this exciting adventure), the truth is that today is a writing day because I don’t have anything figured out; however, I know whom I am sticking with and am becoming strangely convinced that for me, for now, this is His will.