I feel like I've written this post a million times before. It's a chilly midwestern morning and I'm feeling contemplative; my mind stuck inside John Prine's 'Angel From Montgomery.' It's one of my favorite songs. We heard a couple sing it where we had supper last Friday. "How the hell can a person/go to work in the morning/come home in the evenin'/and have nothin' to say?"
So many of the lyrics could have titled this entry. The one I chose kinda struck me today. I guess maybe I'd been on this kick to write only positive and helpful information lately. I'm not sure that's the best me. I don't think it's the real me. Even though I've leveled off from what I was, I still struggle with insecurity; it's a challenge to put myself out there; I feel stupid; I want people to like me; I want to be validated. Rarely does it rain just so.
I had a lot to say earlier. Time often takes our thunder. I remember an old pastor telling me once, when he was asked how he could stay in ministry as long as he did, he said he "just gets up every morning, pulls his pants on one leg at a time, and goes to work." Life can be like that.
"To believe in this living is a hard way to go."
I was wearing shorts and mowing the lawn Saturday, now there are snowflakes crossing the window. My leg hurts where I burned it on the motorcycle last week. I have some boxes I need to deliver to a storage unit. It's been a busy morning, and I forgot what I was going to write about. So this is it.