Growing up is doing things we do not want to do. Things that go against the grain, that go against the flow, that disrupt the fluid ought-to-be-ness that we love about our life. Things like Gethsemane and Golgotha. And we sacrifice ourselves again, and die yet again. Again and again. Death and resurrection, Kid. Death and resurrection. Writing is like that for me. Writing can be such the grind. I've said it all. Nothing remains to be told. It is all right there for anyone to see all the time. Anyway. And no one can hear anything they don't already know. I'm not telling them anything they don't have to realize for themselves-- that I haven't told them 10,000 times. But. Truth be known, I am not writing for them, but for me. To remind myself again, today, what's what, and what needs to be done about it-- again, today. And the old passes quickly away, and behold, the new has come once more today, again. Death and resurrection, Kid. Death and resurrection.
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And we read you in light of our own needs, our own Gethsemanes.
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