Things Left Undone
You have come so far. But have you done well enough?
You have come so far. But have you done well enough?
Summer feels syrupy thick and cloying, on the edge of overripe.
I collect these moments, these small intimacies with strangers, shoring up an evidence base of my own existence and its overlap with others’.
Wandering snowflakes on their descending pilgrimages can hold a remarkable resemblance to the contorted stars of hyperspace.
It may be a little reckless and a little dumb, but that’s the point.
Parking in the furthest spot away in the parking lot is not scratching my walking-everywhere-itch.
Am I a product of all of the sticks, stones, and leaves I have encountered throughout my life?
I wish I didn’t have to wait months at a time to see Hannah. I wish I could have been there to congratulate Katherine on the baby. I wish I could be in two places at once: my church and house church with Luke and Lauren.
Remind me that starting something new is the hardest part.
I’m only just now exploring places I’ve driven past hundreds of times.