à pied

Something major went down in my (car’s) hood on Sunday… and so, for the time being, I walk an hour and a half roundtrip daily to church.

As stressful as this is, the beauty of the earth is much more stark when one is not encased in a several tons of metal and glass and plastic and cloth and leather.

It’s been an interesting week, that’s for sure.

new and improved

Too many late nights don’t do my health any good. New Year’s Eve celebrations don’t assist the matter. But friends and joy and food and childhood games and frosted animal cookies do much more worth to the heart.

The concept of a “new year” is somewhat of an enigma. It’s not an entirely new start, but something does change, if merely because the metaphor is so greatly emphasized. It’s not a new painting, but new colors get squirted out onto the palette. The first stroke of something different is slathered upon the same old canvas. The art already completed – the beautiful and the ugly, the shadows and the highlights – peak through. It’s all a part of some masterpiece we can’t even comprehend – yet the Artist knows what He’s doing.

Truthfully, this past year seems to have emphasized the shadows. It’s not pleasant, but life is lifeless, I suppose, without the shadows. Depth is only realized by the presence of shadows. Light is only appreciated out of bosom of darkness. The faintest little candle in the dead of winter night means so much more than the brightest summer day. Hope and defiance are embodied in those faint rays of light. The darkness is so looming, yet the candle does not deign to give in.

The darkness is thick and heavy about us, but our foundation and our destiny is in light. Whatever works the great Artist continues to do in our lives in this upcoming year, that will never change.