It's been nearly five months since my return to the States and it has now become an undeserved commodity to sit at my old room, at my (new) desk in the house that saw and witnessed the range of family ups and downs within high school and middle school, in the town that witnessed most of my childhood. Have you ever felt like you're middle of so much bliss and things longed for that you know the grave abuse not savoring it anymore? In rare occasions I give myself the time to notice my ingratitude and the most selfish attitude of vanity and selfishness I allow myself to easily nest and feed of. How easily do I ask myself, mainly bitterly, of the pain and brokenness of the world and its affect on my own cross but forget to be utterly repulsed at my direct contribution to it all- and how often is not rhetorical here, every day I do this and perhaps ever more frequently since the return of this young pilgrim.
But this is no woe post of course, but rather a necessary acknowledgement in the records for myself. Blessings experienced in the past 5 months have been sweetly held in my memory and now ever more eager to continue its recordings. A beautiful chapter of my life has been closed and despite my daily ungratefulness God gives me enough sanity (ah, praise for Mercy!) to see what I must do for a holy journeying in the years to follow, even if my will strongly battles with it at the moment.
