School starts Monday and I'm sitting here shaking my head, wondering how the summer moved from a crawl to a sprint without me noticing.  I've read through my syllabi and every day little brown packaged books arrive on the doorstep, reminding me with their knocks that the air is going to change and soon.  Soon I am going to have to dig out my sweaters and pants and notebooks.  I'll have to refill my pen compartment and double check room numbers and turn into an aggressive parker.

I just flew in from a nearly perfect weekend.  I slept in the trees, hanging by rope and nylon and my only view was up, up through the leaves and into the dark sky, lighted by an overwhelmingly loud moon.  I spent a few days getting sand stuck in my toes and my hair and the sun stuck everywhere else.  But most of all I spent myself and it felt so great, being tired for the right reasons. 

I've been reading II Samuel 22 over and over, clinging to David's song of praise, memorizing the hope in between the lines.  I've been reminding myself that The Father is for His children and that life is lighter than the heavy I feel. And so when I read his words my spirit quickens and my mouth turns up and He is everything. I spent a night in a sleeping bag on the beach and I stayed up with Him, praying hard from my soul, sorting through every fear and misgiving and inky doubt and passing them along, breaking them down into words and then letters and then nothing. 

I am on the edge of so much.  I am full of ancient truths and promises, they are spilling out and over.  They are keeping me, anchoring me.  He has taken my tomorrows and made them good.  He has taken me and called me His.  He has and He will and so I may.