One thing weddings are good for is getting back in touch. I haven't talked to Matthew in way too long, yet he cuts right to the root of restlessness: "been writing much?"
Um. Hum. Uhhhhh...
And I know that's the keystone that I've cast aside. Or at least the slightly rancid frosting on the current tasteless cake.
"Life to you is a dashing and bold adventure" reads my fortune cookie after way too much Jumbo Buffet. Living to tell the tale adds both anchors and wings. (Not to imply I'd exaggerate....) Life encourages expression, expression generates life.
Looking forward to this particular dashing chapter to wind to a close. Not the wedding stuff, though Wolf and I are sore tempted to elope again (guess that would kinda defeat the purpose of a public wedding.) Just the everything else which stifles the very expression that would breathe bright life into stale and desperate spaces.
A few weeks ago Paul talked about climbing on his tractor as the storm clouds threatened. "Please, God, hold off 'til I finish mowing!" Wolf and Ginny and I laughed and laughed, having lived out the story verbatim in the very same storm. Paul's message was on the mowing. Getting things right and ready for the life-giving rains. Right now I am mowing... and being mown.
Just hang on tight and dance into the deluge, whooping defiant delight. If we can survive the mowing, the rain will bring lush harvest indeed!