Living the questions and trying to think theologically... and practically. Learning that these things are more synonymous than I once thought.

Location: Dallas, TX

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Weird Daydreamin' at 10 pm

This is something I wrote last night. I really need wireless so I can quit giving you these darn disclaimers.

I needed a change of scenery tonight, so I’m studying in the new trillion dollar science building on the campus of Texas’ Harvard wannabe. Such man made beauty built with my hard earned tuition dollars, that will truly be hard earned as I will spend the greater part of my life paying them off, does not usually capture me in such a way as it has tonight. I’m sitting in a semi-plush chair, listening to Andy P, sipping on my Sunset tea which is now cold, and look out at a water fountain that reminds me a bit of Old Faithful….hmm….old faithful….

If I could snap my fingers and suddenly be in my dream world, I’d be in Yellowstone National Park. It’s ten years in the future, and my family and I are going on our second annual camping trip. Donald just came off his book tour from his sixth amazing work. He continues to challenge the college students and beat poets alike with his candid words on life with Jesus. I recently wrapped up my third annual conference for my organization that focuses on equipping women to be spiritual and cultural leaders for the next generation. We’re all glad to leave San Francisco behind for a few days and to simply be a family, to enjoy nature and one another.

Bobby Shadburn, now age 8 and little Kindred, our daughter who just turned six, are sound asleep in their tent. The chill of fall has just slipped into the air. Don and I are sitting by the fire. Words aren’t needed. We’re just glad to be in close proximity again. I slip my arm through his and he turns and kisses me on the temple. Again I hear the beautiful silence of just being with the one and only love of your life and knowing, without any word or expression, that you are loved just as completely as you love him. When we can barely hold our eyes open any longer, Donald throws a bucket of water on the fire, and we go to bed. Not to sleep, but to bed. And that’s how we get little Faith.


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