Welcome, Old Friend

So something happens. It smacks you in the face like wet Cleveland sleet in March. And it changes your outlook, your perspective, literally rocks your core. It takes you to places you’ve never been before. And it makes you a person, never the same.

Thank happened this weekend. And it was so good I had no option but to return to the blog.

12 weeks. That’s how long I’ve been unemployed. It’s also the gestation period of a bear, but that’s not relevant, unless you consider I went camping this weekend and did NOT get eaten by one.

In these 12 weeks, I have applied for 102 jobs, I have cleaned grout that has never been cleaned and I have broken a toe teaching cub scouts to tumble. I have bench pressed 130 lbs. and I have ran a 5K with zombies chasing me. I have played hooky with my seven-year-old and watched a 3D movie on a school day.

But mostly, I have monitored my checking account. I watch it trickle away with every gallon of gas. I watch my son’s college account pay the light bill. And something interesting happens when you’re between a wall and a hard place: you pray. Well, technically, not everyone prays, but it’s a good thing to do if you claim to be a Christian and you want to be able to pay NEXT month’s light bill.

This journey changes course: it’s not so much about art, about my musings about my life, but has altered slightly, organically, and become more of a personal record of “God-moments” where I look around and I see wonder in the smallest details. The wind rustling the crepe myrtle blossoms. The smell of coffee brewing as I pour out my words to paper. The way the dog tips her head in acknowledgement when I speak to her.

I guess this is life, reimagined. Once you strip down things to the bare basics: just me and my son, my Bible and my pen, with no 20 hour commute to the city, and no obligatory meetings, peace envelops me, warm.

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