A Winter Away

I understand that we all have seasons in our lives. But what happens when season lasts too long? What if a winter didn’t break for years? Would the grass remember how to grow or the sun to shine? Would the birds still find their way back—and sing their song? Would one remember the warmth of a summer sun on his face?

On a solitary, twenty-three degree night in Denver, Colorado, these are my concerns.

Academic, again

I have resumed my academic pursuits once again—namely, work on my dissertation. So, if in a conversation with you I start talking about Godwinian anarchism or atavistic response to crisis, just ride it out. I’ll stop talking eventually.

All I need

Tonight I chose to be alone. I left a group of friends at the pub to come home and, in silence, think. I left because I realized that friend can never mean much of anything in this world. I say that because we all believe in lies. Lies that tell us what we should want, who we should be…who we should be with. And anyone (everyone) who is lost in this blessed deception can never be trustworthy.

What is friend compared to Savior? Or mate compared to Lord?

He is all I need. He is all I need.