Life is good

Fall has come to my little spot on the globe. It happens to be one of my favorite seasons, you can drive with all the windows open including the one in the roof, campfires are more than welcome, you can walk out the door without the fear of heatstroke, oh, and it happens to be the season that I was born and I so love birthdays. Not really the fact that my age changes but the fact that usually you get presents. I just love presents. HINT, HINT, jk. I don't like the fact that it seems like time is flying. I hate thinking about the fact that my years as a teenager are very muchly numbered and that that means that I'm getting older and older. Ahh!! That's scary. Makes me want to fly to Never-Never Land and hang out with Tinkerbell and Peter Pan for a while.

I just finished The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. I was reminded again of my love/hate relationship with old books. I love them because there's so much more to them than meets the eye. They have much deeper meanings than the newer books, in fact they can have multiple meanings. But I hate them because so often I'm confused as to what those meanings are. I can usually get one of them and only partially get the others than that of course drives me crazy cause I hate not knowing the entirety of the others. Mom wonders why I read them, now you do too. I guess it's just part of being me. =)

Next weekend my church is going camping. Now that's going to be fun. I love going camping, especially in the fall. There's just something that seems right about going camping in the fall. Don't know what it is. Nice cool/cold evenings, campfires, guitars, smores, mountain pies. . . Yeah that's gonna be fun.

Well I guess I don't have much else to say. I'll leave you with a song that pretty much describes how a part of me was feeling this past week.

It's enough to drive a man crazy; it'll break a man's faith
It's enough to make him wonder if he's ever been sane
When he's bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod
And the heaven's only answer is the silence of God

It'll shake a man's timbers when he loses his heart
When he has to remember what broke him apart
This yoke may be easy, but this burden is not
When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of God

And if a man has got to listen to the voices of the mob
Who are reeling in the throes of all the happiness they've got
When they tell you all their troubles have been nailed up to that cross
Then what about the times when even followers get lost?
'Cause we all get lost sometimes...

There's a statue of Jesus on a monastery knoll
In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold
And He's kneeling in the garden, as silent as a Stone
All His friends are sleeping and He's weeping all alone

And the man of all sorrows, he never forgot
What sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought
So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God

The Silence of God, by Andrew Peterson