A wise man’s momma once said there’s an awful lot you could tell about a person by their shoes. Where they’re going. Where they’ve been. I think this is basically true. But there’s more. There’s the noticing along the way. Turning minutes into moments. Opening wide to the gift of present, rather than rushing on, wearing out shoes yet never fully living.

Another, much wiser, man said He came to give fullness to the noticing. “Life fully,” as He named it. Eternity now. Life wide open, bursting forth with fruit: love, joy, peace, contentment, patience, kindness, faithfulness; all wrapped in ribbons of thanksgiving.

I happen to believe that Man. The God-Man, Christ. And so in these shoes, I notice. Never perfectly, but out of authentic character and earnest effort. When I notice, make moments, offer thanks, open wide; there is full life. Offered to me all along.

And why write? It is my “cacoethes scribendi”– insatiable desire to write; not unlike my insatiable desire to experience life itself. And then there is this truth– “verba volant, scripta manent”– words fly away, but writing remains.

And so I write. I write broadly because life is broad. I share deep because we are not meant to root on surface soil. And when I write, I’m barefoot. For I know, this is holy ground.

It is all holy ground.

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