I’m sitting on the couch and Jon walks by with his gallon of water. I can hear Cake playing in the back ground, someone is getting hyped for work in sounds. Jon stops and asks a simple question—one I think to be loaded with significance. He asks, “What is a pirates favorite letter in the alphabet?” I begin to ponder as Jon begins to smile and before I can land my thoughts he exclaims, “RRRRR.” Then he says that if I were to say, “RRRR” he would say that I was wrong and tell me it is the “CCCCC.”
It is a pretty normal morning, I got some homework done and ate some oatmeal—thinking it would be good energy for the homework and the bike ride I am plotting for later when the gloom burns off. I’ve been taking some classes this summer that have encouraged lots of time reading the bible and asking good questions of the text. When you ask good questions often you find a text reading you—breaking through in a sense. At the same time I have been asking hard question of my life. Friends have helped me ask these questions recently. There are some breakthroughs emerging. Some have to do with calling, time, women and others with hope, experience, and that space in us where we are able to freely give to another.
To be at home in your skin is to locate yourself in time, within call, in relation to others, experiencing some kind of loving reality that leads to a daily kind of hope. My questions are aimed here, as I notice the gloom burning off. Getting up to ride seems foreign right now—just not sure how I am going to get from this couch to the bike in the next few minutes. They are literally three feet apart yet they signify for me extremely diverse ways of experiencing the day. But some how I’ll manage to saddle up, clip in and ride—getting out the wiggles while finding God speaking from within my skin.
Normality is ripe with the divine. The conversations that bloom and silence that seems to have voice accrue the kind of sustained meaning that ascribes to moments, the Transcend.
