That's what I meant to say.

Earlier this year I decided I should give a little more toward writing, and thought a good next step would be to have an article or two published. I quickly found myself a writing assignment with a Christian publication (I know you want to know who, but its really not all that relevant...) They liked an idea I had, and told me to go ahead and finish the article.

The idea for the article was inspired by a blog I wrote last fall about my good friend's wedding. In the article, I described the ritual of a wedding day: the excitement, nervousness, anticipation, and most importantly, the chaos. In the last hour before the ceremony began, about a dozen women were gathered in the bride's room, geared up and ready to help her into her gown. Per the usual, there was shouting and laughter and a dozen opinions flying around the room like bouncy balls--until the moment the bride was finally in her gown. At that instant, we all fell silent. It was as though heaven pulled back the curtain and said a simple, "Hello." Though God was there all along, the beauty of a bride is what made us suddenly so acutely aware of the Divine. That was the magic, that was the mystery. We didn't have to express it--we probably wouldn't have known how, but we all knew: God was there.

I finished the article and sent it in. I expected feedback, don't get me wrong, just not the kind I received. The feedback I received was, "We want you to write more about God."

I responded and agreed to make the appropriate modifications.

And let me tell you, I tried. Oh, how I tried. But I found myself staring at my computer. Not writing.

Last week, my friend Andy asked if I've thought about doing any writing. I told him the story, and he asked, "Did you ever do anything with it?"

I shook my head. "No."

He nodded. "They wanted you to write about God, but you were like, 'I already did. The whole thing was about God.' Right?"

"Yes! Exactly!"

That's what I've been thinking but didn't know how to say. That's what I meant.

Everyone needs friends like that. People who can say what you're thinking even if you weren't fully aware of it until it was spoken. Its that kind of thing that keeps a person from going crazy. Its that kind of thing that gives you the courage to keep trying.

I think a lot of things in life work like that. Most of the hurdles in front of us that keep us from running forward are only hurdles because we haven't named them. Once we identify them and give them names, we can jump over them--if they're still there, that is. I often realize what I thought was a hurdle wasn't even a hurdle to begin with, just something I imagined, or confused for a hurdle; like a flower or a puppy.

Not really. I'm just told blog readers don't like long posts, and I needed to win back your dwindling attention.

And remember, when all else fails, hurdles only weigh a few pounds and can be easily moved out of the way. Better yet, just run around them. No need to overexert yourself. Coming from the girl who stuck to the 100 Meter Dash because she was too afraid to run the hurdle races in 8th grade Track and Field, that's good advice.