You'll get sick of these by the time I'm done. But this is what happens when you work in a cubicle so far away from the windows... your mind has to find something to keep it alive... so I brainstorm. I brainstorm and then tear the page out of my notebook and bring it with me. And by the time I sit down to write it all out (so I don't lose it... all ideas are precious), the paper is tattered and torn. It's a system.
Psalters. Psalms. Poor wayfaring strangers. Gypsies. The way I resonate with them cannot be put into words.
Today is my half-birthday. The anniversay of meeting a best friend. Today is three years from then. From that one night. Of promises and assurances. Three jam-packed years of loving, growing up, growing apart, leaving, stretching, hurting, finding, seeking, seeing...
Three.
I need to find a VW van/bus. We need a diesel engine so we can convert it to vegetable oil. I saw one driving down New Circle this morning... I'm taking it as a sign.
Bad Company, "Burning Sky".
Upper room.
My heart is an empty room... I'm starting new. You do not put new wine in an old wineskin. I cannot make this new theology (dare I call it that...) fit into my old lifestyle.
Salt.
It is not easy. God bless us
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