Home. I don't realize how much I miss it until I'm here.
Kelsey and I watched a flock of geese arrange themselves into a V last night while the sun was setting over Davidson. At first they looked like a cloud of black wings, messy and scattered. And then one would drop back and one would push to the tip of the V, and then another would swing to the back of the flock, continuing this smooth choreography until they had fit themselves into that familiar aerodynamic structure. I don't know why it made me so happy to see that; it just did. (Perhaps it's remembering that even the birds have patterns. Even the birds know there is a right and wrong way to do things.)
John (as in the writer of 1 John, which I've been studying since the beginning of the semester) is so aggressive and black-and-white. I am almost weary of his unflagging adherence to absolute truth. (Silly. I know.) But 1 John is all about being this or that; you can be nothing in between. He does not believe in middle ground. You either know God or you don't. You either love your fellow man or you don't. You are either perfect and sinless or a condemned sinner. You are either in darkness or you are in light. You cannot exist in shadows; you cannot dwell in partial lighting. I am struggling with this now; life doesn't look that easy to me. Is there something I am missing from 1 John? Or am I just reluctant to take it as it is?
My family is exquisite; I love them tremendously and cannot thank God enough. I will be happily occupied here until Sunday. Until then...