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Somehow

The love of the Father for his children plunges us into mystery because it is utterly beyond the pale of human experience. The parable of the Prodigal reveals a love that is gratuitous...But Jesus says: that is the way my Father is. He wants you home more than you want to be home. His love knows no bounds. Never compare your pallid, capricious, conditional human love with my Father's love. He is God not man.

—Brennan Manning, A Stranger to Self-Hatred: A Glimpse of Jesus


Knocked off work a bit early is search of rest. Had a bit of it, then the restlessness came again. My soul needs the stillness and is terrified by it. So out I go again, to eat, to read, to write. Somehow it's easier out here.

When I stop and consider, my life has a distinctly surreal quality in this present. Among those who haven't known me deeply, who would guess that I would suddenly be living this story, with this cast of characters? Indeed, it would likely be equally disorienting to those who have known me deeply, and even (especially) to me. If you'd sat me down in April and told me of my life today, I'd have laughed in your face.

(and yet, I'd have known, somehow, that you were telling the truth)

Somehow. Somehow the ridiculousness of my life makes me feel closer to God. Somehow the joy and the pain (past, present, future: take your pick) reveal beauty and truth in deeper ways than I'd yet seen. Somehow I've been caught up in something bigger, a mystery. Somehow I'm alive, awake, and called back into the game.

And somehow, all of this is happening because He loves me.

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