So the holidays are over and it's back to the daily dull of work, or to put it more positively, a place where we get to find God in the small things of life - the place He loves to hide in plain sight.
I officially subscribe to Heather King's vision of an ecstatic, erotic Christianity while at the same time finding myself often in tune with Tom More, the bad Catholic in "Love in the Ruins" for whom the rules are burdensome, not opportunities to "explode within" as Heather wrote. (I like how Ellyn of "Oblique House" responded to Heather's post: "I'll have what she's having.") King, like Blessed John Paul II, has that spiritual vision that sees things and both have a hopefulness that some would call naive but sometimes impractical is the only practical way to go.
Am pleasantly pleased I was able to find not one but THREE very promising novels. Ended up going with "A Sense of the End" by Julian Barnes, but also have another one on deck that makes for compelling & lyrical reading.
A chilly, gloomy day. The roads are rain-slicked/ice-slicked, the temperature right around freezing. The highs in Fort Meyers, Florida for this week look like a broken record: 81, 81, 81, 81... Nice temps if you can get 'em.
Haven't done much hiking lately - I'm becoming too detached from the natural world and hope to make up for that this weekend. Not much to look at, given the leafless trees and barren ground, but it's still outside, it still carries with it exercise and charisms of its own.
So the sky is pewter but that's okay. There will be the exhilaration of Florida next Thursday and this is fine farrow ground that the Painter paints in order to provide contrast. Though I don't particularly like the cool air coming off the window and blowing lightly on my neck.
I read more of Amy Welborn's frank memoir "Wish You Were Here". Her husband Michael often preached the necessity of being happy regardless of circumstance, of relying on God alone. "Am I making you happy?" Amy would sometimes ask anxiously, and he said that he would be happy even if the unthinkable occurred - her death. "God alone," was his mantra, and one that he preached to her often as if in preparation for the awful event of her widowhood. I felt a bit guilty, seeing how I so often see happiness as utterly dependent on circumstance. But while there's breath there's hope, and so I will not be discouraged. I refuse the 'broad and easy road" of discouragement!
Ran 2.5 miles yesterday + 1/2 lift and it about kilt me. Running always makes the drink go fonder, and so I relished the double helix of IPA bottles last night. 'Twas fiercely hard to resist a third, but temperance is good.
Volunteered for snow removal Sunday at St. J's. Hoped that no snow would come when I signed up - it's a luck of a draw type thing - but it looks like we're getting snow both today and Saturday. So earlier to church on Sunday.