Amazing. You give me hope. Thank you.
Can you imagine the hopelessness of trying to live a spiritual life when you’re secretly looking up at the skies not for illumination or direction, but to gauge, miserably, the odds of rain?
I lived in Seattle for more than a decade. When you live in the Pacific Northwest you develop a nuanced relationship with the weather. Most people seem to have the impression that it pours there all the time. Not so, PNW rookies. Not so. It rains a little bit almost every single day for nine months out of the year. Lots of gloom. Meteorologists in the Northwest are prone to saying things like, “It’ll be a brighter grey today.”
I always loved that.
As usual, this morning I woke up long before the alarm at what Favorite is prone to calling, “stupid o’clock.” I stretched. I waited for my eyes to focus and adjust to…
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