my highway to zion

poem's sisters, all grown up and living in ocean view. L to R: mckayla, melissa, spune. capricorn boys overlooking the burial of one of their own. RIP Mabuti. christmas 2010. the boys played soccer while the girls played shy. crazy people on a crazy elevator. penny and i went to prom as dates. they had a foam machine. this was the state of her feet after five minutes. see next photo for details. the child is bonkers. visiting keaton in prison (the one getting his nose pseudo-picked :) he recently was hit by a car and really struggling. pray for my little man) on my way to simonstown via train. try to blame me for living in south africa :) the old man who lives at beth rapha. me and my little men: leshwin and ryan. penny shot. the child loves her dried meat. (it beats gas station beef jerky any day of the week, american readers). penny's breakfast at the old biscuit mill. no wonder she l

I wanted to write about an amazing experience I had on the train the other day. However, certain things are standing in the way of my being able to articulate thy story as I think God intends it to be written. I am frustrated when I can't write. So, I thought I'd write about those things standing in the way. In one word, "Me" is standing in the way. Me is a weak and wounded sinner who can't get a grip on age old struggles: disappointment, fear, rage, resentment, denial, loneliness. Me is wondering what God would say if he could call Me right now for a chat. Me wants to ask God when I would rather take the easy road than the narrow road. Me is tired of talking to the white walls of this bedroom. Me is too easily distracted by fleshly desires and earthly wants. Me spends most of her time convinced that if Me just had THIS area sorted out, or THAT relationship at a different stage of development, or THE OTHER empty places filled with seemingly innocent desires of my