The End?
For as long as I remember, I've been aware of the Mystery. It lingers beneath everything, never quite visible, but always there, teasing me with it's potential appearance, longing for words to describe it when none can. I can feel it sometimes, at night when everything else is asleep and my head starts emptying out all the things that ran in there during the day.
So far, I've only managed to capture it in small pieces: when I play drums without missing a beat; or when I toss a laughing Logan over my head, through the air and onto the bed; when I walk outside on a cool night, hearing only the wind, to see the moon shining through wispy clouds on the ground below; when I sneak up on Cody in his crib and catch him unaware that I can hear him telling stories; or when I roll down the windows in the car with the heat on in early spring just because it's still light outside on my way home from work; when Parker anticipates the tickles before I give them to him and he just laughs and laughs and I don't even have to touch him; and especially when, late at night and full of noise, I lumber from the cold downstairs up to my bedroom, and I see her sleeping there, full of dreams, with a little smile on her face. It makes me smile.
I'm going to take some time off from updating this blog to look for it some more (not that I've been diligently updating the past few years anyway). Maybe one day, when I'm old and lying in bed, watching as God opens one last door for me, I'll find that it can't be found--it's just there. By then, I probably won't care much anymore; so I'll look for it now.
So far, I've only managed to capture it in small pieces: when I play drums without missing a beat; or when I toss a laughing Logan over my head, through the air and onto the bed; when I walk outside on a cool night, hearing only the wind, to see the moon shining through wispy clouds on the ground below; when I sneak up on Cody in his crib and catch him unaware that I can hear him telling stories; or when I roll down the windows in the car with the heat on in early spring just because it's still light outside on my way home from work; when Parker anticipates the tickles before I give them to him and he just laughs and laughs and I don't even have to touch him; and especially when, late at night and full of noise, I lumber from the cold downstairs up to my bedroom, and I see her sleeping there, full of dreams, with a little smile on her face. It makes me smile.
I'm going to take some time off from updating this blog to look for it some more (not that I've been diligently updating the past few years anyway). Maybe one day, when I'm old and lying in bed, watching as God opens one last door for me, I'll find that it can't be found--it's just there. By then, I probably won't care much anymore; so I'll look for it now.
