I’m sitting here looking at the moon, seing its various features, its shadows and valleys, its plains and mountains, staring back at me. There is a branch, a single thin cedar branch which criss crosses the view. Other than that it is as bright and clear as can be, about forty degrees above the horizon.

Other than noting the moon I have little to say. I finished a chapter today, getting Jesus lost in the Temple and found, a chapter which ended up being about sixty five pages, and so likely is really a few chapters in one. It was a milestone of sorts, though not a completion by any means. Now the curious thing is I have no regrets or even consideration about cutting my collaboration ties. Which seems comforting. I can live with myself, even if I don’t have an immediate hope. I figure this is walking right, the only way I know, kind of like riding the cars in autopia at Disneyland, cars which kind of steer but have that track underneath to keep the car from going too far to the left or right. I know I’m on the path when I’m not hitting the rail. God lets me know when I hit the rail, and I completely lack any peace while I grate against it.

This is the firmest measure of my present existence. There is peace, there is inner approval despite outward lack. I’m pushed down a path hedged on all sides but the way forward, and know that I can only walk this path.

How do I know? How do we know anything. My soul tells me, and at the end of the day we all have to listen to the call of our own soul. It will catch up with us sooner or later, and it’s always better to go ahead with the sooner. No end of chaos and confusion for us and others awaits if we put off heeding that all powerful voice.

Then after I wrote I went kayaking in the cold weather, wearing shorts while everyone else around was bundled up in winter wear. A red tailed hawk skimmed the water not fifteen feet from me, surprising me as it went by. I haven’t been back in since Anacapa, so it felt nice to stretch those muscles again, and let the wind blow on my face in the middle of a mountain lake. It is a fine place to pray and consider my prayers, the consideration of which seems to be as important these days as the prayers themselves, as I wonder why some prayers rise out of me so easy and constant, while others seem constricted and difficult. Maybe wisdom will come, maybe it won’t, I just know to pray for what is there to pray for and do what seems right.

It was a good day by all accounts, the measure of which will really be for future considerations, but for now it felt right. That’s all I can do and offer. I think I’ll finish this and stare at the moon for a while.