As occasionally happens, I’m not quite sure what to tell you tonight.
It’s not that my life is boring, or that there is nothing to say, simply that I’m not sure what to say.
So maybe I’ll not say much at all.
I don’t consciously miss Mexico; I guess I won’t let myself miss it.
But deep down, somewhere my mind can’t reach, somewhere hidden deep inside me, I do miss it.
I do miss it.
But I’m here now, and there’s a list next to me of all the books I need to obtain in the near future, and people are moving and living and being up and down the hall, right outside my door.
I can’t decide if I want life to stop for a bit; to just freeze and let me get it together before I have to dive in again.
Or if I want things to hurry up and get going because the faster we get through each day, the sooner we move on to what’s next.
Whatever “next” is.
But, seeing as I don’t have a choice, I’ll do what people have been doing since time began; one minutes, one breath, one thing at a time.
And soon enough, I’ll turn around and suddenly realize I’m come rather far.
In fact, even now I can look back and see how far I’m come.
And I suppose, if God has brought me this far, there’s no reason He won’t bring me a little farther yet.