5/07/09

Tired. Done. Busy. Paint. Drying. Tacky. Lifting. Nailing. Cutting. Sorting. Singing. Laughing. Joking. Kidding. Secret. Unsure. Hidden. Smirking. Teasing. Hoping. Defensive. Honest. Hopeful. Eating. Cleaning. Talking. Bonding. Happy. Sore. Patience. Packing. Leaving. Giving. Sharing. Jealous. Distracted. Sinning. Wrong. Repenting. Humbled. Humbled. Learning. Smiling. Pressure. Future. Responsibility. Timing. Leading. Elders. Teachers. Workers. Blessed.

5/05/09

So, yesterday I killed a wireless router... brain surgery + power failure = lost patient. Some geek I am...
And sometimes Texas Hold ‘Em is too hard after a day of work... but playing with dirty tambala coins was fun. 50 tambala coins are heptagonal -- pretty cool!
Today was painting and emailing. Oh, and while I was in the shower, Chris told me I was leading devotions in 3 minutes. Nice. :- )
My fingers are dry and my fingerprints are deepening... AND EVERYTHING SMELLS LIKE TURPENTINE!

[FYI, the picture is of a toy I had (...still have) that I thought looked like a bottle, and the most dangerous bottled thing I could think of that started with "t" was turpentine...]
Ruben’s stacking nails, trying to beat Lukas’ record. Simon killed a goat for dinner... You heard me. Ruben named him "Dinner", so it would be less traumatic. I still didn't watch.

Lukas is teaching Tim and Brian how to better use their cameras. Speaking of apertures... my ocular apertures are getting tired.

Chris is on the phone with Jessica. Pretty much if the phone rang after 6pm, we knew it was her. Pretty cool.

Dan’s talking shop to Rick, and Greg’s dictating a letter for me to write to someone.
"Life is good, eternal life is better"... "and he walked the length of his days under African skies"...
"That girl is like a sunburn"...
Haha, Ruben was singing every Neil Diamond song today, ticking Chris off... but it was very funny that every few minutes, I’d hear Ruben burst out with a “on the boats and on the planes, they’re comin’ to America!” Chris would eventually come out of the office, shaking his head with a laugh -- "you see what I gotta put up with, Carl?"
Lukas leaves tomorrow, and we on Sunday Afternoon. Such a good day, even though I really didn’t get a lot of drying time for the shelves and doors...

5/03/09 pt. 2

(continued)

We went to lunch at the Sunbird Hotel in Lilongewe. It was a buffet with an Asian cuisine kind-of-menu. It was good beef, and tasty soup. Just a great mix of Fanta, fellowship, and fun. I love hearing Chris and Rick’s tales of extreme surfing and shenanigans... ooh, Newt getting rocked on a ramp, and Chris getting pummeled by pipelines crashing. It’s like hearing Jake and Jim talk about skiing -- no personal experience, but I can imagine it pretty well.
From there, we headed to a wandering walk through the back alley shops of the city. We parked at the post office, and were immediately beset by sellers, trying to get us to check out their shops. A rasta-looking guy introduced himself to me as Jack Sparrow. I checked his arm -- no bird tattoo. Nice try, though. Thanks for playing.
We walked down through town, past a place that’ll be opening next year that Anita’s psyched about -- it’s a SA version of Target... wow; getting big capital city -- a chain department store :- )
So, we passed through a ton of lean-to shops and booths -- I mean booths; it’s divided like a convention hall. All merchants are surrounded with food, raw and open; an organic cornucopia, complete with flies and flaws. Little tables or blankets with dozens of sunglasses, bottles of skin care cream, shampoo, trial size soaps... everything. Brian described it like the stores in Aladdin -- a good mental picture, but imagine a wetter climate, and far more South African trade goods. All the dirt is compressed with bottle caps from Carlsburg beer and Coca-Cola. It’s almost paved in places. We gingerly avoid water here, running or still. Chris is in sandals, and I wonder how close to pee-water we’re getting.
The clothes they have for sale are shipped there from the US, SA, or even the Middle East. Thrift store escapees, special buys from Marshalls and Ross, and last-chance bargains end up here; packed on pallets, cargo bins, and delivered to a less discriminatin’ country.
All the booths seem specialized -- a shop with only blue jeans, another with many jackets (including a spiffy army coat from a possibly defunct country -- what else do you do with the loser’s uniforms?). There’s one with only Hawaiian shirts (no, I didn’t get one), and a booth packed with nothing but bras. Brian bought some kind of grilled lemon slices from a guy who was cooking ‘em up. It was a market; something that America’s distilled into department stores.
We crossed the river on a cool, rickety toll bridge. Real rickety, not some manufactured creaky thing, but rope with boards slung across it. An Indiana Jones bridge at least 3 stories over the river.
We keep walking up to the more Indian part of town -- we walk through a different market that’s almost all auto parts and fish market. Again, I think of that Mad Max / native American mentality; if you have something, use it, don’t throw it away. Rick’s naming every kind of part and piece he sees, and there’s piles of brake, axel, and engine pieces. Some of them are so huge, I can’t imagine how a buyer would get it out -- pieces that weigh a ton (easily) are nestled in this secret metal boneyard.
After making the circuit, we cross the river again, this time by the regular road -- it’s a good stone arch, with cars driving over, and people doing laundry in the river underneath.
We check out the golf course (Brian says it’s good, and he’s got a couple sets of clubs) and a couple guys split off to see the police station which was nearby. If you don’t already know, the Malawi police are numerous, yet they don’t have cars, or really any vehicles at all. So weird!
So, walking back to the cars, we pass the merchants again. I tell the guys that I’m looking for something small, and that I don’t know what I want, but I’ll know it when I see it. That gets a lot of competitive aggro going, and the guys are really trying to get my business. I continue to wear my backpack in front, and I keep both hands in my pockets. No sense gettin’ jacked if I can avoid it. Finally, I found a beaded elephant. It’s shiny, with some orange (beads + copper) and kinda cute -- I hope I get to see some elephants, ‘cause that’ll make it a better gift. Same with the rhino bookends.
We headed back, and stopped at the only fast food place I saw in Malawi. It’s a SA place called “Steers” -- it looked like a Burger King, maybe... very purple, though. We got soft serve, which was a little sharp in taste, but hit the spot. I got to buy a round (i.e. a carton) or Cokes for the guys from the store.
If you don’t know this about me, then let me share... I love giving stuff to people, and not giving the same stuff to myself. It’s totally born from of Andy Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption getting the beers for the inmates who’re tarring the roof -- it makes a man feel like he’s done a good day’s work. Then when Andy’s offered one of the bottles by a fellow worker, he waves it off, telling the guy that he stopped drinking years ago. The guy gets confused, smiles, and goes back. Then Andy smiles. That feeling -- that smile -- is so unique. I dare you to try it... it might be an acquired taste, but I love it, and now I can’t go long without it.
And does the name Mildred Hideaway mean anything to you?

5/03/09 pt. 1

So, 2 churches this morning; #23 at the school in the village, and IBF at ABC.
Kwatcha’s friend and ex-roomie Kondwani (Kondi) is the pastor of a church in the village -- not the only church, mind you, but the only one that exegetes a passage in the bible. With our 10 guys, we doubled the turnout for that church. Kinda awkward, but
The music at Kondi’s church was all acapella, with Richard leading. Man, that guy had some complex rhythms going -- we couldn’t keep up. Some of the melodies were familiar, but they sang in Chichewa, and at the end, Kondi explained the gist of it. The kids of the village keep coming in to see us -- it’s a big deal. Felix and Richard had to keep the kids quiet, or out of the church. Man, I hate disrupting stuff.
Next, we piled into the car, inside and out, and went to the job site, and saw all the work Rick, Richard, and the workers had done. Wow! A full slab, with a septic hole, and fittings for plumbing built in. Rick designed it to have a tank above for the women of the village to fill their water supply for washing, showering, and flushing. Somehow, I’m thinking of the way Rachel was found in Genesis.
So, we pile back into / onto our ride, and head to IBF; it’s at the Chapel in ABC. We load Kondi on as well, and I got to talk to him a bit as we “hung” together. He pointed out a Christian-looking church inside the village that actually practices something like voodoo or a derivation of fear-based paganism. He explained how much Malawi was still superstitious... people in the village will try to get a curse put on you if you bring too much weath, or weirdness from the outside. A metal roof, or a fistful of dollars could get you hexed. Conversely, you can try to combat illness and poverty by following rituals and paying these shaman / priests. Haha, now I’m hearing Josh Crooch lambasting WOW characters. "C’MON! You’re killin’ me!" :- )
Kondi also told me that while he was going to school in SA, he was blown away that there were poor white people there... he actually gave a guy 5 rand just so he could tell people in Malawi that he gave to a white beggar. As I rub my beard now, and look at my paint-stained shoes, and ill-fitting clothes, I realize that I look like an LA homeless guy, yet here, I’m ... well, I’m rich. Still, kind of a freak.
We drove back to the house, and Greg and I walked down to church. We talked about early man, and the idea of having a perfect mind. Adam was created perfect... entropy and death weren’t part of the equation for him... so he would have had perfect visual, olfactory, tactile, and auditory memory. He could name all the animals and remember them. He could hear an animal sound, and now exactly which one it came from. And Greg postulated (and I agree) that even after the fall, the decay of Man hadn’t reached its current state -- lives were longer, and I bet that their skills were stronger. Imagine being able to see an object built, and be able to do it, just after seeing it once. Being able to judge distances as if you had a tape, binoculars, and a level. Not having to write measurements down, because you wouldn’t forget so quickly. It’s a cool thing to think about... especially from a craftsman’s point of view.
So, we get to IBF, and Kondi’s passing out bulletins -- man, he’s everywhere. Brian’s there too, meetin’ the folks as they arrive. I think of the last time I saw a pastor greeting people at the door... I don’t think I’ve seen it this decade.
There’s a ton of international-looking peeps here -- it’s a small world, after all, inside His Church, and under this octagonal dome. I sit with some of the crew, and look through the hymnals... one is simply printed, and has some Chechewan hymns in it. I wonder if those were some of the songs we sang... or rather clapped along with/?
I wish I recorded the morning better, but the music was great to sing along with -- a drummer, or to the side of the stage kept time, and we sang Crossroads / bible study like songs -- upbeat, and encouraging. Nothing against the more traditional hymns, but this crowd didn’t seem too formal. The Kingdom brothers (of whom we’d heard a few on Thursday night) were up as special music, and they sang a catchy tune they wrote called “Welcome”, that “sampled” The Lion Sleeps Tonight -- Ruben loved it... they had major skills, both with volume, and with timing. They sang a hymn as well, and then Brian preached from the end of Acts 4... Barnabus the servant, helper, encourager, and saint. I think I kept my notes... somewhere.
We hung around for a while after, as Brian mingled, and at least I (like any geek) idled poorly. Have you ever seen me idle bad? Nothing to help out with, no clean-up projects, or things to pass out... you can hear my belts whine, and the pistons churn in an oilless cacophony that drowns out chit-chat and social graces. Grrr... then compare that the NO2 boost when I give stuff to people; just as much of a car(l) problem, but the cloud of me escaping thank yous and eye contact works like a smokescreen... a buffer... OK, enough justifying of my quirks...

5/02/09

So, today, while I'm at the computer, Brian witnessed to a unity-seeking guy named Rue -- “Roo-ee” -- who came to the house to get Brian interested in a lady who was coming to town to share some newly revealed truth from God. Yikes. This lady’s pic was on the propaganda novel he was handing out to people. Spracken ze LaRouche? OK, so he claimed you could follow this path correctly: Jesus = Salvation; Jesus = God; God = love; therefore, Salvation = love. So, love is all you need. Not the bible, truth, or the Holy Spirit. This dude was soft on knowledge, and didn’t recognize that Brian WAY out-comprehended him. Still, Brian kept up his patience, and calmly walked him through the Gospel, and the sufficiency of Christ’s sacrifice. I sat there in front of the computer, praying that Brian had the right words, and thankful that of all the people to talk to him, a Seminary-trained missionary was available. God is good.


And somehow, Ron, Ruben, and I started quoting Brian Regan... I wish I remembered what started it; probably something about the “Me Monster”. Brian opened his DVD cabinet, and put on Regan’s “I Walked On the Moon” special. We sat and watched, laughing and quoting it to the guys who hadn’t seen it yet. That and Facebook are such a cool slice of home... woo hoo!

5/01/09

Stomach ache this AM... probably from the fish and pop, or the gift-horse chocolate cake last night. I could crunch the grains of sugar in it. Not Stevie’s cooking. By the way, Stevie is a native Malawian, and one of Brian’s employees... he’s been trained by Anita to cook and clean in Western (or ZA) style -- he follows recipes from the classic Betty Crocker cookbook very well. It’s amazing to have huge meals that I’ve heard of for every meal. So cool. We all love Stevie.
Oh, and (mainly) Lukas and I hung the rest of Brian’s pictures. I helped out with some financial stuff -- inputting receipts, etc. I installed and imported stuff for Anita’s laptop, and ran the STM donation push remotely from Malawi. Oh, yeah -- RDP from a different continent, baby! Geek on!
I’m totally the Josh Wade of this year’s trip. It’s actually comfortable.
As I said to a few of the guys: “It is a good thing to have citizenship in the imagi_nation_”
Brian’s implied challenge to us: is your effect the same as a finger in water? Remove the finger, and the water just closes in.
Dan’s a cool guy; I love hearing cop stories. I bet Danny and Justin could do a PSA just as easy as doing an infomercial, or a sitcom.

[Carl proceeds to write an end-line rhyme poem that’s too... corny to share]
Oh my weerrd. Why, Carl, why?

4/30/09

Ha, ha, ha... a good day at Lake Malawi.
It was a long drive, and I got to hear Ruben, Greg, Simon, Brian, and Lukas’ testimonies. Wow, Ruben the bad teen; Greg the philosopher; Simon, the kid saved from walking away; Brian, the born missionary; and Lukas, the saved ex-caffeine kid.
And now there’s a joke going around. At my expense... heh heh. Greg knows, and he’s encouraging.

The lake was so cool -- like a beach, but with faster and smaller waves. Chris and Rick went swimming... I was a little freaked by Brian’s “snail parasites that’ll kill your liver” speech, so I hung back. We ate at the Sunbird Livingstonia Beach, named after the missionary, of course.
We stopped at the wood / curio shops on the way back. They’re along the road to the lake -- at least 25 tent-like structures full of similarly-carved wooden things; keyholders, ashtrays, figures, bowls, toys, trinkets, and jewelry. But some are unique; the wood and the size, the detail or the shape. Such were the rhino bookends and the croaking toad. For the toad, you run the little club that fits in his mouth along his back, and it produces a hollow “glomp”ish sound. Yes, I saw toads here. They’re behind Brian’s house, hiding with the skinks in the run-off / woodpile near the electric fence. The noise is quite accurate at the right rate. I need to get Ed and Silvana something, too.
I don’t want to jinx it with mountaintop excitement... and this dern beard is itchy...
I love this crew, and I’d love to keep going.
Mosquitoes are punks, though. *slap* *slap* Come back you little creep!
We had steak fajitas for dinner, chambe (battered, with pop) for lunch, and French toast for breakfast!
I’m tired and happy and excited and I can’t hardly wait! So sleepy... YAWN!

4/29/09

Origami + Malawian kids = fun!
I went with Rick to the construction site in the village, and after some shoveling and brick-sorting, I made a crane from part of a cement bag. I taught them the word “share”... they all had to pass the bird on, or it fell apart, back into a piece of paper. I would flap the wings, and make a “grok, grok” sound, which they laughed at, then tried to duplicate. Teaching them vs. learning their words; wow!
“Baa-lamm” --> bird or crow
“Se-ca” --> paper
“tee-oh-na-na” (“mau-wa”) --> see you later (tomorrow)
Oh, and washing “mud” off with minimal water, outdoors, at night isn’t as fun as several hundred other things I’ve done. Grr...
But Fanta and a couple conversations -- one with Lukas, one with Greg -- hit the spot. Lukas and I were putting up pictures and photos, but Greg hit the nail on the head. Gah!
The phrase “Finnegan's Wake” jumped into my head and stuck today. Why?

4/28/09

Lukas went to the village today with Rick to get more pictures... I guess he got swamped, and led them around the streets, looking like a parade. I did data entry, file transferring, and helped with painting and scraping the walls. I’ve decided that since I haven’t had any caffeine since LAX, then I won’t have any until I get back. That might be hard to handle on the plane...
Tonight, all Brian’s senior students came to the house, had dessert, and he gave them each a different Macarthur NT commentary. Afterwards, they sang a couple songs, all a cappella. It was totally cool, and unique. They danced and moved while singing worship songs -- and they modulated their volume or speed as a group without a conductor! I talked to a guy from Mzuzu (a different town in Malawi) named “Z”, who works at the ABC radio station, and is a communications major. (he's the one looking at the camera...)

4/27/09

Just played “Wizard” with Ruben, Rick, Ron, Dan, Simon, and Greg. Dan CLEANED UP -- it’s like hearts mixed with Crazy 8’s. It was a great first day. Dan and I painted 2 rooms, Chris and Ruben (with Lukas and Malawian Willie) did both ceilings, Simon wired stuff, and Rick started building the dorms in the village. Haha... Lukas and Chris both snore, but I bet I do too. :- )
Ruben + Chris = karaoke; it was so fun to join them singing “Sing” from Sesame Street and “I Love You Just the Way You Are”, and hearing Dan lay down “Ice, Ice, Baby” on cue. Heh heh... I haven’t shaved yet, maybe I can be Logan when I come back home. You know, just shave the muzzle area...
I hope to give away all this stuff I have. No obvious mosquito bites... yet. With the paint color on my hands, it looks like I’ve been makin’ waffles!
I really wish I had more skills, in the same way I wish I was a better man. I hope I can learn more about construction... and yes, I know I’ve started the last three thoughts with “I”... stink.
The food rocks! Biscuits and gravy, pizza, and spaghetti and meatballs + salad + chocolate cake today! I hope and pray tomorrow I can shine with His light brighter. Word of the day: hope.

4/26/09 pt. 2

I sang “Africa” as we flew over Mt. Kilimanjaro (Kill-uh-man-jer-o? Kill-a-muhn-jar-o?). Saw a cute little Indian girl with squeaky shoes wander around the airport. I’ve forgotten at least half of the last 24 hours... and that’s kinda sad. The Nairobi airport was pretty odd -- it felt like sticks to Heathrow’s house of bricks. We watched a soldier patrol out the window with a machine gun and a red beret. I think someone made a musical Sgt. Barry reference. Maybe it was me.
So, we’re in Africa, in Malawi, in Brian’s house, and I’m sitting in the squishiest chair he has. Deet already scarred my cheapy watch. It looks acid-washed, or Alien-sprayed. Hahaha! We’re not supposed to drink tap water, or offer to give money or stuff to the Malawians (at least not without Brian’s say-so). Dinner was Shepherd’s Pie -- a-maz-ing! It was like a milder version of my Grandma’s Enchilada Pie... hmmm... maybe that’s where that name came from.

Chris and I got to ride on the outside of the Combi through Msilisa (mm-sil-EE-sa), a village right across the street from African Bible College. Every kid under 8 (and some over) yelled “azungu” (aah-ZOONG-goo!) at us, and ran up waving. Azungu means “white person”; not anything like an insult, just a skin-tone derived identification. More often than not, having an azungu in your village means money’s not far behind. A sad truth for Malawi -- all whiteys are gonna have money to burn.
Rick’s going to start building a residence for interns or potential grad students to stay at during their time at Kondi’s church, or at IBF. Right now, it’s just a maize field with a property line marker on it.
I just pulled off my socks that I’d been wearing since Friday morning. Right now at Grace, I’m hoping Jim, Mike, and Jake are taking the offering for Crossroads.
Silvana’s topic of conversation on Friday is still throwin’ me off... I think I know why she has and was holding her position. I can’t be fatalistic about it. Maybe when I get back I’ll do something about it. Someday I suppose.

4/26/09 pt. 1

Eyes are red like I’ve been crying, and Kenya Airways “RA09” is playing “Hunger Strike”. Maybe it’s arrogant, but I bet only 12 people worldwide really know what this song is about. Maybe I don’t know hunger, but I know the strike part.
I can’t believe I was able to fall asleep, and that I can’t now. Shoes are off, and feel better now.

I love the pigeons in Bolt; “are you kiddin’? This is the bes’ day of my LIFE”...

4/25/09

Saw some CRAZY chips at a Heathrow gift store... Cajun Squirrel? Prawn Cocktail?

I couldn’t place the ethnicity of the girl behind the counter... how apropos in an international airport. She spoke idly to her coworker about the clothes she wore last night – an off-the-shoulder orangey-pink French thing, with nylons (of course) and Gladiator boots. As I imagine the schizophrenic party that she’d be able to attend dressed like that, the whole of the Heathrow airport scene feels wrong. “Duty-free” becomes an obscenity, and I wish I knew why they walk and drive on the right side. My backpack and Anita’s laptop feel heavier with each euro or pound sign I see.
I walk past the HMV shop; it looks like FYE, but smaller. They’re playing Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues”, and I lock eyes with the stock girl, who’s dressed like Mad Stan. She doesn’t know about Bob tossing signs around, but I do. Further down the hallway, the Starbucks doesn’t have BTLs, but they’re blasting the Sugarcubes. Maybe it's better than I thought... maybe it’s the 3 hours of sleep, but I start laughing (to myself, of course; who’d listen?) and try to figure out what I want...
To eat, I join most of the crew at a party-looking place called Garfunkel’s. It’s kinda expensive, but I got some good tasty ice cream & a toffee waffle. And a huge glass of water.

4/24/09

So, I’m on an airplane, sipping what’s left of my Venti BTL (I didn’t think they’d let me on with an outside drink)
I have trail mix from Mrs. Peters and my little red moleskine. Headphones and an interesting selection of in-flight music. I laughed through Fou De Fa Fa, and now I’m listening to Johnny Cash’s At Folsom Prison album... and it’s speaking to me – maybe it’s the worry, or that I’m locked into an inescapable dark place, thinking about the people and places of home.
The conversation on the way to the airport with Ed and Silvana was odd and a little tense... I hope being guarded and a smart aleck wasn’t too brusque.
Chris is a cool guy – I’m glad I’m tethered to him for this round. Takeoff was fine -- it’s a lot like Star Tours... :- )
OK, now Johnny’s singin’ about cocaine and murder... maybe not so much like me.

Take

(an attempt at channeling Lisa Loeb)

calligraphy names around the circle tables,
My eyes trace the plates and spoons
wedding rings, crystal sings
no music in my flute of champagne

do you take this woman,
do you take this man?

Brides have made me their bridesmaid
Do I look good in this shade of maize?
Not a great cut, or what I would want
but this isn't my wedding day.

he can have your hand
do you take this man
with his new name even though
I like it the way it is

do you take this woman
the day everyone calls her beautiful?
And they say it's not for you.
I guess it's not for me, too.

I hold the arm of a friend of the groom,
his wife is the one with the stroller,
do I take this tissue to his
runny-nosed mother and daughter?

do you take this man,
do you take this woman?
dancing like shivering jello
spilled on the rubber-smudged floor.

limousine car's left,
dripping rosewater mixing with
daffodils, satin and taffeta
do I take this centerpiece home?

do I take this man,
will he take this woman?

tortilla soup

moon hangs in the sky;
her presence can help me decide:
half empty or full, a frown or a smile?

porcelain glistens, wet and smooth,
she clunks her arrival at the table, and I pull her to me;
self-conscious, aware of my need to thank God
for all the providence and provision that allowed this meal to happen.
silver spoon sings on takeoff,
and I dive into the Chef's recipe.

crunchy and colorful top layer,
that's what I expect with tortilla soup.
warm and bold,
but she'll get cold after too long, sitting on the patio.
peppered, tongue stings slightly
one alarm, maybe two.

time slips by as she fills me
with hints of cream
soured, chunks of avocado green.
she's cheesy, corny --
not saying that's a bad thing --
and like me, a little chicken inside.

4 things

a quote:

"We cannot tell the exact moment a friendship is formed; as in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses, there is at last one that makes the heart run over."

a thought.

a walk

a decision.

u-turn

(rule: must use 'u')

you concluded thusly:
you could pull through, you wouldn't suffer consequences --
counting upon your guts, your muscle, your thoughts.
until you found out you're bound, cursed.
sinful soul, shrouded under crumbling humanity.
but Jesus
fought our nature unblemished
ultimately crucified upon rough lumber
fully creature, fully universal Ruler,
unique suffering saviour,
murdered, buried, but un-ending,
returned triumphant, survived execution
rescued us through undergoing undue punishment.

you must trust Jesus.
put your burden upon our Saviour --
surrender, humble yourself.
you requested rescue, but understand your situation:
you're purchased undeservedly because our Ruler treasured us.
through Jesus conquer lust, covetousness, drunkenness, frustration
pursue purity.

Finally, I've figured out...

(from All for You by Sister Hazel)
There's been time...
(I'm so confused)
All my roads, they lead to you --
I just can't turn and walk away...


My walk...
(plus a bunch into the hills above Brand Library -- I got to see the sun set!)

walkabout...

where I walked today...