The way time goes by and hours become years and sometimes it all feels lost, absent, vanished.
Was I really not here for so much? When did I leave? How do I get back? What is this I, and where is here, anyway?
And then I remember, and remember even remembering before, that God's work cannot be undone.
Nor can it be understood, and the time spent trying? Keeps me from being here.
And so camp rolls into Halloween and now we are in the advent of another Advent, waiting to wait, looking forward to when divinity takes on flesh, a reminder of love because why on earth else would God choose to walk through this vale of tears?
It must be love, that willingness to offer companionship.
And so I pray for presence -- God's, and my own.