and i'll keep the area clear

Hey loves.

It's me again, back in Grantham, PA. It's eerily familiar to be posting from a dorm room, but also really weird. I thought I was basically done with the traditional dorm room last year. Turns out I was pretty wrong. Somehow they all manage to smell the same.

I had a minor revelation on the trip from Craig and Laura's today. Maybe this is totally, absurdly obvious, but this is what I thought:

It all started as I was listening to a song about how if we focused on Jesus, the things of earth will grow strangely dim (in the light of his glory and grace) - I'm sure you've heard it. And I realized that, in fact, when I actually feel like there's something out there beyond what we can see and touch and smell and taste and think up, that's when the things of earth seem the sharpest and most potent.

I started to try and say in my printmaking portfolio this semester how inadequate it is to say that I love God. I haven't the faintest idea how to even begin to try to love something like God. Haven't got a clue. I mean, he's God, right? How much more ineffable and unlovable can you get?

But I do love the things of earth. Really a lot, in fact. That sounds bad, but hear me out. I love my work. I love my family. There are certain other people that I love, and even someone that I somewhere in between. I love honesty and poetry and water brushing along the tops of my feet. And so I can't love God; I don't know how. But I love these things he's given me, and maybe that's all the closer to loving God we can ever get - it's loving the things and the people and the calling he's given us the best way we possibly can, and hoping that we're loving his reflection in them.

Does that make sense?

It strikes me that I am possibly a heretic. And also possibly very sleep-deprived.

Anyway, think on that.

The end.