Exterior, morning.
Lifting a bag of mulch in someone's backyard just off the Kennedy in West Chicago, shoes muddy and feet cold, for a second it was like someone had just edited the film. Cut from March 14, Bangladesh, to May 12, Chicago. Steady white noise of cars with the occasional, gentle swooping sound of one passing close by. Light drizzle. Just like a sequence in the middle of a long movie like Cool Hand Luke or Castaway.
I wouldn't mind just cutting out the last two months, either. Two months where nothing that you'd put in a story happened. Bangladesh to Idaho to Illinois.
Hello again, Chicago.
A few weeks ago, before the move to Chi-town, I had an inkling to pack up the car and go to LA for some time. Not for the movies. For the Christians. Rabid ones. Laura G., LA native, has been hanging out with people who can and have raised the dead. People who point at you and you fall over, your lame leg regenerated into a fresh new one. People who speak and hear prophecy. People who are like the people you read about in Acts in the Bible. I wanted to go and hang out with them too. Because Laura is not full of crap. If it's hoaxy, she won't buy it. I even asked her to ask God on my behalf if I could come. I didn't hear back until after I had packed up and left for Chicago.
God said to Laura, "He is free."
Seems like what I believe means everything at times and nothing at other times.
Raise your hand if you want to be "free."
I don't.
***
I'll have a phone number within a few days. E-mail me yours and I'll call you.
posted by Adam @ 12:21 PM
7 Comments:
Why don't you want to be free? Well, I guess it depends on what free means. Free in the sense of wandering or lost, maybe not, free in the sense of content and at ease, given remarkable power but responsible for being obedident to the call more than the outcome, you bet. I'd love to hear more.
Thank you for not ending this blog just yet.
Everyone loved the cat videos.
Oh Don Piano.
I'm glad you're still writing. I was pleasantly surprised to see something new.
oh long johnson
I don't want to be free. I want to be captured and held. Free is hard. Free is lonely. To people who feel trapped, free is better. To people who are alone, free is not what we need. Maybe it is all the same thing, but it needs to feel different, and maybe be expressed differently.
I agree. I don't like being free.
Chicago huh?
Say, have you heard of the Acts 29 Network, or any of the churches it has sponsored? I'm going to one. They have a very energetic service, extremely well done p & w (which I hated - until yesterday), and candles and incense in the hall, which incidentally is a bar.
I'm not too sure what I think about the place.
Oh my dog.
Yeah, the cat videos live on . .
So, two weeks without a new post? I've read every one of your posts, and not one reference to hangnails or lattes. Get with it. In the mean time, I strongly recomend that you check out the Snow Patrol album "Eyes Open" if you haven't already. This may border on blasphemy, but I like Snow Patrol better than (gasp) Coldplay. Check out the tracks "Chasing Cars" and "Set Fire to the Third Bar."
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