risk

of the children’s births and early childhood. They were charming little kids, and I loved seeing them. But their youth is mixed in with the divorce, and I can’t watch the tapes without wondering what in the world went wrong. There we are, laughing at Christmas. Of course, I know what went wrong, but it is so surreal. I really trusted him.

In church today, we were talking about the honing power of pain, the way it can strip the frivolities away to reveal our best self. I hope I am better now. I know I am happier.

is certainly a risk.

I might go down in flames. At the same time, it ain’t so good right now. So risk, here I come.

a big one. Risk losing my son. Risk that if I stop trying so hard (even when I know it’s ineffectual) that eventually he will come back to me. Risk putting the whole thing in God’s hands, by letting go of my grip.

God, he’s outta my hands. I pray that he’s in yours.

Isn’t our life predictable? You’ll get the job you think you would, get married, have children, live in the same country you were raised in and just silently ignore the fact that your life is safe and boring. No surprises whatsoever. But you know what? I don’t want safe, I want free. I don’t want to know my next move, the direction my life might take the very last moment…urgh. And how do I explain that to my friends and family here? They think I’m wacko going to a city that’s 17 hours away from home…errrr…maybe they’re right.

but at least I got to know my friends better in the process (and discover which ones were bent on world domination).