Our Comings And Our Goings

Chicago

Saturday night, and I am home. At last.

In the last six weeks I have traveled to

  • Savannah
  • Columbia
  • Harrisonburg
  • Baltimore
  • Chicago

Lots of traveling for someone who is planted quite firmly in Powhatan, VA.

I’m glad to be home, and hope to stay focused for several weeks.

But I am reminded of the great power of connection; every one of those miles between all these places I have been recently is marked by love, whether woven through bonds of blood and years of locked eyes and intense hugs, or through song and melody, words and motion.

New friends that complete a divine connection and set a hook for what may come.

A city that feels like a warm welcome, even on a chilly trek down Michigan Avenue soaked with rain, touched with awe.

Even through talking tomatoes and cucumbers, and the rising and falling of our hopes and dreams and fears and rescue.

Uncle Dave. Sarah. Max. Shannon. Sydni. Jesus. Matt, Julia, Nathan. Jackie, Christine, Lindsay. Matthew. Anne. Erwin. Ben. Ryan. Sarah. Phil. Bob. Ian. Gina. Steve. Don.

Home, where all these are gathered into my heart, and I am reminded of the great, vast expanse of joy before us in our comings, and in our goings, and in the small and large of what resides within.

Friends, old and new.

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