From Walter Brueggemann

"We keep pushing
and pulling
and twisting
and turning,
trying to make you fit the God we would rather have,
and every time we distort you that way,
we end up with an idol more congenial to us."

Mike Told Me to Blog This

So I'm sitting in my car in front of Jackson's school. I drove him out for a drama class. All I can hear is the rain plink, plink, plinking on my metal roof and I'm watching the drops form on the windshield. and for a moment each drop holds it's shape. it is what it came to be in the air above me here. and then higher on the windshield, several drops join together and gravity takes over and they stream down. the little drop is caught in the stream and engulfed, disappearing onto the hood. for a moment it was self-contained. it was itself. then it lost it's self to become something more.

maybe that something more is nothing more than a puddle. or ground water or eventually drinking water only to be pissed out in the end. or maybe it is a lake or a river or a sea. but whatever it is to become, it will no longer be what it was for that one moment on my windshield as I sat watching it, wondering about my self and losing and finding.