Then, as so often happens, just as I am ready to start writing, knowing pretty much what I want to say and excited about finding a way to say it well, something in me tries to get up and leave it—drink a glass of water, look out the window, read a magazine. Just as the spell has a chance of working, I break it. Just as there is a chance of bringing light out of dark, I choose the dark, withdraw my hand from the hand I have reached out for…If there is a will to be known and forgiven, is there a will also to remain hidden? Yes, of course, but the full answer about why I both want to write and do not want to write lies deeper still, and were I to discover it, I would discover perhaps the secret name written on the white stone. I do not discover it. But this morning at least I resist the temptation to leave my work before I have begun it. For better or worse, I choose this time for life instead of death.
With Sandy today...–Frederick Buechner, The Alphabet of Grace