like a married dude at a night club

i went to church twice today. that's right. twice in one day. no need to tell me you're impressed. i already know.

even though i was at church last week, for some reason it felt like a long time away. the feeling i get when i go to church for the first time in a little while is kind of like the feeling i used to get in college when i pulled up to my parents' house, or entered the city of manchester. it's a feeling of homecoming, a feeling of familiarity, the absence of needing to prove myself or explain myself. it doesn't have to be dramatic, but it certainly is pleasant.

it was while singing a song tonight that an interesting analogy popped into my head. (i like those.) the refrain of the song spoke of freedom. now, here i am, feeling all homey and singing about freedom, when my mind drifts to a night club. don't ask me, i'm often just a spectator in my own head. i began to think about how my being in my own life, is like a married dude at a night club.

the married dude is at this night club, and he may be very participative - having a few drinks and doing the robot, but his goal is largely different than that of most other men there. other men may be anxious about trying to meet someone to date, or even just take home, but the married dude is free to just take everything in and enjoy himself, knowing that he has already found a permanent version of what everyone else is looking for. as the night wears on, the other men may become more anxious about leaving alone (as some of you women may have noticed, men are much more bold as closing time approaches...), but our married dude is as loose as a goose.

this is how i feel. i live my life. i love my life. i participate in the world around me. however, i have no cause for anxiety, because i've found what so many others spend their whole lives looking for: purpose, and the confidence that comes with being unconditionally loved by the One who created me carefully.

happy sabbath.

i'm getting old

i've been too busy for, well, my entire adult life. not until now, however, have i ever wanted something different. i liked the lack of sleep, the schedule conflicts, the money-spending. slowly, over the past few months, i've been seriously valuing more my still and quiet time. i mean actually valuing - not just talking about it so that other people can see how ridiculously busy i am.

so, it's official. i'm getting old.

i'm considering only having one job (not to say that my second job is taking up a whole lot of time these days). this doesn't completely tie into my last point, because it would mostly be to make time for other, more creative ventures.

i've been promoted at my "real" job. i like it. i'm a "production coordinator." i feel like an appreciated employee for, perhaps, the first time with this particular company, which is really invaluable. i'm contributing more to the production process, learning more things. all of this is good. presently, though, my job is largely trafficking files and working in maddening computer programs (i wont bore you, or myself, with the details), which is not fun, but i think it wont last and hopefully that change will come sooner, rather than later.

my eldest brother, jesse, is getting married this weekend. i'm pretty excited for so many reasons. my new sister-in-law is a peach. her love for jesse and his daughters has brought tears to my eyes. the whole thing just glows with a hope and redemption that doesn't show up in life enough.

i had the carpets cleaned at my house yesterday. they look great. i am brought back in my mind to our honeymoon days, my house and mine. my friends were all circling wedding dates on their calendars and i was circling a closing date. i couldn't be happier with my decision (or theirs). i can't wait to show off my dear home to my family for the first time this weekend. we must find her something nice to wear.

my foot is still broken. it's pretty much at the same hurty-level as it's ever been. i can't really shift blame, here, except to my stubborn foot, but that would be counter-productive, would it not? i can say with certainty that practicing the moon-walk does not sit well with the lateral sesamoid.

i think i'll go to sleep now. as i said, i'm getting old.