January 25th, 2005



Well after midnight in late January, and I sit outside, looking up at a nearly full moon and wondering just what's gone wrong. Nothing but blessings all around, and I'm even aware enough to be grateful, yet still restless and insecure.

The city is hushed, with a whisper of traffic from the bridge over Lake Union. The water is still and the reflections clear.

There's nothing for me to write about: I'm not that interested in documenting my day right now, or in contemplating some devotion, and I can't pin down the rest enough to put words to it. I'm not blank, really—just jumbled.

So I gave up on sleep for a while. Turned off the television and the music. For now I sit, writing the little I can because it's all I can think to do. Once it's morning, there are things I can do—sit at a coffee shop with a bagel, head into the office and get to work, whatever I like. But now, the space is just empty. Not right, but honest.
  • Current Mood
    blank blank


Bought myself a treat last week that arrived yesterday: headphones. It's been a long time since they were a regular part of my attire. There was a time when I lived in them. No snazzy iPod or anything like that; they're just for my iBook when I'm out and want to tune out the world.

So I'm using them for the first time now at Vivace, and it's quite a trip. Guess it's strange to have a profound experience with a pair of headphones, but I've got a strange history. Feels like wrapping myself in a cocoon of music again, shutting everything else out. Sometimes there are too many voices.

Taking a break from Acts in my Community Group this week to look at a chapter of Daring to Draw Near by John White, on Paul's prayer for other believers in Ephesians 1:11-23 and 3:14-21. I'm hoping we can begin to learn how to really pray for one another and ourselves, laying claim to the treasures of heaven rather than settling for our cramped personal dramas. Paul's words aren't platitudes—they herald a deeper, higher reality than the one with which most of us preoccupy ourselves. If we listen and pray, there is so much more.

Being able to shut everything out could be dangerous. I like it too much.
  • Current Music
    Rich Mullins, "52:10"