Whispers of Truth

I sit among boxes piling a bit higher each day as I pack my life up once again. I say again, but in the grander scheme of things I haven’t moved that often in my 33 years of married life, and since the kids were born, I have only moved three times until now. We will be renting for a while until we can find a place to land, so I am purging things much more robustly than I have ever done with any other move. Sorting through 33 years (plus some things I had before marrying) has been utterly distracting, difficult to accomplish, and slow to finish. Homes need things, and things need a home, but I am finding I have held on to far too much over the years. Letting go is hard. Stuff.  Too much stuff. Merriam-Webster defines stuff as “materials, supplies, or equipment used in various activities: such as personal property.” By this definition, we own what we need to DO something. I have done much the last five years while I have not been in the classroom daily. Pottery was the first thing that

Do you remember the logic  🧩 (or riddles or analogies or challenges—not sure what to call the kind of word puzzle I mean) of childhood past where one was required to look at a grouping of words and figure out based on their arrangement what they meant together? Something like this one below: CONSTRUCTION soul The correct way to solve it would be soul under construction . If you notice, construction is weighty, and the soul is small under the burden of change. Maybe it has seemed quiet to you lately from this quarter. It is true that I have not written in a while, but it has not been because my soul has been absent of either noise or the quiet contemplation of time spent in the Word. I have been wrestling with myself, not with New Year's resolutions but with what I know about God, with the disconnect I sometimes feel between living out truth versus what my flesh wants in all its ugliness. There is the other side of wrestling, however, when it goes on too long without acti