Upstairs rummaging through stuff in the junk closet. I would be happy to throw all of it out. I am no longer sentimental about stuff. I grab a roll of new Christmas wrapping paper, a bow and some gift tags and go back downstairs.

Earlier in the day found me throwing away papers from my desk-side filing system. It seems I am well-thought of as a writer to those in search of truth. I read a few letters written by people telling me that and then I threw most of them in the garbage can. In those days I was unsure. Now I know I have helped lots of people. I don’t need to cling to the evidence.

My writing takes many different twists and turns and they are all necessary, apparently. Just as the ones in life are. Nothing is static.

Just like I uncluttered my paper items, I also uncluttered my mind. It is overly full of useless information.

It is best if I sit in silence and wait on inspiration. It always comes.

One of the notes was written by a woman who said she saw a large angel beside me. It isn’t my late husband, because he was still alive then.

This angel is something I cannot verify but I certainly wouldn’t think of tossing the idea out.

Angels demand respect. That much I know.

Vicki Woodyard