All My Best Epiphanies Come From the Bathroom Stall

There is an entire genre of music that reminds me of Houston. And keep in mind, that any time the state of Texas crosses my mind, you do. But the music is really good. So I'm pushing through the pain, and I went ahead and bought Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix.

Oh, and it would be divine to hear something in response right about now. Not that I'm not accustomed to putting my heart on a wire. But I'm so tired of checking the mailbox.

I want to be on an adventure. I'm restless and anxious here. I want to be doing something else, somewhere else, where faith is easier to see and much easier to have. I am blinded by my comfy bed, my functioning car, my fifteen pairs of shoes, my pervasive culture of Christianity that in reality, has almost nothing to do with the life He led. I really want to be on that adventure that you planted in my head. It's grown into a big weed now, and it's wrapping its tentacles around my thoughts.

But I know that the Lord is sovereign. This is no surprise to Him, that I'm shy, and dependent on someone who is guaranteed to be mindful of me in a new and scary place, and that no one like that happens to be in my life. And I know that all He asks us to do is obey Him. He hasn't told me to go anywhere yet. Maybe He hasn't told you to, either.

I am so blessed. I can't begin to count them. I can't understand why the Lord blessed me so much. Why when He was hanging on that cross He thought about me, and all my sin, and nodded in acceptance of that burden. I don't know why He loves me so much. He loves me enough to withhold the easiness of having just what I think I want. I guess that means He has something planned for me.