I love my father and I love him well
I hope to see him some day soon
Cause where I live it gets dark at night
Kind of dark that eats up the light
-AM


I like the cold. I love the quiet. This weekend all my roommates were gone and each day I'd come home to quiet. I turned on all the Christmas lights and opened the windows and cold air poured in. I painted several whales and moose and wrote and copied poems onto paper bags and colored in pictures and breathed and expressed myself. I felt alive. I felt understood as I sat with Eugene Peterson and Harry and Samuel Hamilton.


I don't feel like I can find any room for myself in a place where every one has something to complain about or dream of.


I love the city, I really do.


But oh, how I love the quiet.


Lord give us strength. Let us find balance. And let us love you well. Come into our home today.