About six years ago, my wife and I founded Perelandra College. So far, it’s an online set up with MA degree programs in Creative Writing and Counseling. A couple months ago, after plenty labor and expense, the college became accredited

My friend Alan warned me several years ago that this college might be so much work it would cut into my writing. Of course, I realized he could be right, but my hope and intention was to be more involved in the creation than in the running of the school.

Fast forward. I’m running the school, and finding that after decades of trying to build my writing career to a point where I could concentrate my efforts on novels, I’m needing to step back into what’s essentially a day job that shoves my novel writing down on the priority list to somewhere between yard work and healthy eating.

That’s okay. Deranged as Donigan may consider me, I feel that God has assigned this chore. Such assignments are worth doing well.

But something bothers me, which may be of interest to someone. Because thoughts about the college, how to tell the world what we have to offer and how to make the business part of it function more efficiently, how to cut costs and treat the staff and faculty with respect and concern, how to expand and improve our curriculum, all that consumes so much, there’s precious little time to engage with or even notice thoughts that may come from my spirit.

Which alerts me all the more to our need to shut down, maybe part of each day, or a longer part of each week, or an even longer part of each month, and open ourselves to ideas, revelations, to stuff that has not a whit of practical application.

Maybe I’ll get a week in September.