Mail Time

Josh and I received several Target gift cards for Christmas.  (We created our wedding registry there.)  I had asserted with fierce frugality, "We will save these cards for June," but $6.00 for a pair of shoes is rather irresistible.

The box arrived yesterday, a welcome treasure amidst the steady influx of used textbooks.  Oh, of course, assigned reading is fascinating and beneficial, but I occasionally lapse into a shameful fit of excitement over material things.

This week has been a flurry of activity, moving from one class to another, to work, to the ATM, to youth group at my beloved church in the suburbs.  Have I mentioned that I am unduly blessed?

I am studying the book of Genesis, the book of Romans, photography, drama, and forbidden knowledge in literature.  My professors are brilliant and engaging, and I often sit shell-shocked as my presuppositions are blasted into oblivion.  My readers, rest assured that I know nothing, and that I deserve less than nothing.  My education is precious, an undeserved crown, and I intend to write to you more intelligently.

I blog about snowfalls and thrift shops, Chicago and Christmas decorations, but of what importance are these things?  Why do I take pictures and post narcissistic blurbs about my fleeting existence? The things of God deserve more mention than my daily doings.  I am quite negligible, but He... He is enchantingly beautiful.  Christ haunts me with His faithfulness, pursues me with intensity, and His Word sharply slices through my delusions of grandeur.

On Christ, the Solid Rock, I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand