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Thanks be to God!

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I am home for Thanksgiving. I am thankful for home and I am thankful for Thanksgiving. God must really love me, you know?

I drove over to a dear friend’s house this evening and sang to myself the whole way. I sang the Armed Forces songs cause I missed Veterans’ Day, then I sang Amazing Grace, then I made things up. Little ole me who shies away from the music majors, was building harmonies. It sounded awful, but I could not be suppressed. Where do I get off being so happy and full? I’ve been bought back, I know that, but that is only the bare bones of the operation. I am currently floundering in God’s grace.  It’s like the book The Runaway Bunny. At the end, you know?

“Shucks,” said the bunny, “I might just as well
stay where I am and be your little bunny.”

And so he did.
“Have a carrot,” said the mother bunny.

I’ve been given about 27 hundred carrots. So much over and above that in fact I think my entire life is built of God’s gift-carrots. Books and Hugs and Family and Dinners and so many Friends. I’ve discovered that God has placed me at the top of some mountain. I don’t know why. I don’t know how or even how long I’ve been here. Probably forever. In any case, I am writing this to remind my future self that though He will one day lead me into the Valley, He is good. I don’t know His purposes now, and I won’t know them then, but He is so, so good.

The law of the LORD is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple.

The statutes of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes.

The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the LORD are true and righteous altogether.

More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold: sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb. Psalm 19:7-10

I  can never in this world, even with my blessed life, begin to understand the depths and heights of God’s goodness. So for now, I’ll just go to bed and revel in it. Good Night.


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This weekend I did everything I had planned except my homework. I did laundry for free, ruffled my baby brother’s hair, ate sushi, ate chikfila, ate my mother’s cooking, drove all around Greensboro on my lonesome singing as loud as I could, had a sleepover with my best friend, and went to see the kids with whom I used to act  beast their Shakespeare. That was all great, but my primary activity was hugging people. I am always hugging people wherever I go, but this was different. One-armed hugs, spinning hugs, hugs where you scream into each other’s ears, and collapse into each other’s arms, and hugs where it’s just cozy. So many endorphins. Walking into school and hugging one person after another after another until you forget who you’ve hugged and who you haven’t. That is coming home, my friend. Where you hug, and eat, and still have time to think.

But now…I’m back. I’m back at school. It is not home but it is partly so. It’s a halfway house for kids like me. Kids who are neither here nor there, who can vote but not drink, get married but not rent a car, whose paper soul is beginning to rip down the perforated line as huge invisible hands tug it gently in the simultaneous directions of Greensboro and Grove City.  Because now everybody I have to love is no longer in one place. I have to drive hours and hours to complete my rounds. Ah, well, thank God for long, cramped car rides, because now there are hallmates to be hugging.