i think i read somewhere that blogs aren’t that cool anymore. that’s okay. i’ll tell you another secret… i’m wearing bootcut jeans. another indicator of my age or my uncoolness or the way i look at the world with a little perplexity and then keep doing things the way i’ve always done them.
i’ve been gone for a long time. long enough that you, and even i, wondered if i would ever write here again. but, i came back and read through some old posts and some of your old comments, and it all felt really important to me. the changes caught and captured in words through the years here in this little space feel really important–will they move mountains?…. doubtful, but it was enough to move me even years later, which means it might move you. which makes it important to keep at. i will keep building my own mountain of words. and see how close it takes us to the sun.
the past five months have been a trip i hardly know how to describe.
let’s pretend i only have a three sentences.
here they are: we left texas. we moved to virginia. i had a nervous breakdown.
maybe someday i will have the time and the effort to tell the whole story of my trip to hell, but for now, let me tell you that when i drive down the george washington memorial parkway i feel like i’m home in way that i’ve hardly felt before. and that is good. and i’m trying to collect as much good as i can and put it in my pockets. for as difficult as these last months have been, i have seen and felt love from places that surprised me. maybe that’s the lesson of difficulty: that God will hide love in the most surprising of places. that our difficulties are opportunities for us to see just how much love can be behind a stranger’s door or in a plastic waving cat or in an oblong corningware.