On a day like today, when I feel the mercurial dissonance of in-between, when solitude is becoming more and more normal, when the ache for Home becomes more distant, while its absence still cuts a dark shadow on my soul, I need to read this.
Today, I am already alive.
I tell her this as she sits in my office, my feet tucked up under me, a habit of mine that is designed for stillness but really just makes me fidget more, an unwelcome thing when I am trying to listen. I tell her how this past weekend, in between a flying back and forth and the worry that sat with me on the couch those mornings, my Bible open, my heart sounding a gong in my bones.
I tell the story like it is something I came up with on the fly but the truth is I’ve been out there looking for it for years, this answer that finally comes to me, a gong to beat next to my heart, in time with it: you are already alive.
You are already alive. You do not become alive when you get into grad school or when you get married. You…
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