the space between
I haven’t felt as inspired lately as I did a few months ago. I don’t know what it is (or was). I’ve been doing more web work recently, and that takes a chunk out of most nights. Hopefully that won’t slow down, either, so I’m going to have to figure something out if I want to stay in it journal-wise. Most entries, at least the ones I put a modicum of thought into, take a while to percolate and take shape, and that time just hasn’t been there in the evening lately. I’ll figure something out. It really is shameful, though, that I’ve had a review of the latest U2 album waiting in the wings for a couple of weeks, but just haven’t got around to un-privatizing it. I need to finish that.
In other news, there is no other news. Life continues much as it has. We’re progressively moving out of the house and settling into the apartment here. Today my dad came up from Chapel Hill and helped me move some more things out of the house. He really wasn’t feeling well and it was beyond generous of him to come. My mom and Gran visited on their way back from Hayesville as well, and it was good to chat with them for a little while. Luke wanted to monopolize his Nana (my mom) with his book about the US states, and Penelope was a little social butterfly and put on a good show. It was fun.
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This is probably the best thing I’ve ever written. Don’t ask me where it came from or who inspired it; I honestly have no idea. There are days I miss Florida, the six short months I lived there. The combination of the solitude and the beauty of the ocean all around caused stuff like that to just well up spontaneously. Here’s another one. And another. And yet another.
I’ve probably related this before, but during my time there I visited a number of churches, searching for the right one. The service of one I visited was held in a local school’s gym. It was a recent church plant and I remember being approached by the pastor and his wife, an older couple, who wanted to know if they could meet with me. It wasn’t suspicious, but friendly, and I invited them to my apartment. They arrived and we chatted for a little while about what brought me to Florida. I think at that point I had just lost my job and was pretty directionless, so when they told me, quite eagerly, that they had been praying for someone to come and help out with and possibly lead the college ministry at their young church, I was less than enthusiastic. They were visibly disappointed, and I’ve wondered occasionally how differently my life would have turned out had I taken that chance. Heck, I don’t even know if they would have supported me at all; they just knew their church had a need and that I seemed like a good candidate to fill that need.
I want to take more chances.