The Other Side of the Psalms

At 8:50 the alarm goes off. It’s time to grab your things, run to the bus stop to catch the 20. “May integrity and uprightness preserve me…” I put my headphones on, listening to a morning playlist while I find my way to my usual seat. It will take 25 minutes to get to language … [Read More]

Whispers in the Middle

“It gets easier.” Not all at once. Not even gradually. It comes in waves, difficulty. The choppiness seems all-consuming at first, and then you start to find the rhythm of the swells. Anticipation is out of the question… that would be too easy. No, you’re always in the middle of it. There’s no practice run … [Read More]

Sneaking Things

It sneaks up on you, that culture shock thing. You may think it’s happening, but it probably isn’t. You probably don’t think it’s happening, but all of a sudden you’re really sad or really mad or really both all at once and you don’t know why or how… and it’s probably happening. It’s wanting to … [Read More]

Moving On and Walking on Water

It’s never done, is it? This whole “faith” thing, it seems to keep going. You think that just around the corner you’ll be finished, that you’ll reach the point where you “have faith” – But it never comes, does it? “It’s not a destination, Tony. It’s a way of living. It’s the very path you … [Read More]

One Week In…

Can you age a year in a week? That is all that it has been. One week. One week since I arrived on a plane in Stuttgart, having a cold drizzle welcome me to my new home in Germany. One week since I said goodbye to my friends, family, and way of living in the … [Read More]

Confessions of a Control Freak

Control. I like it. Too much. I like being able to know what is coming. I like to know details. I like to be able to change things that I think are harmful. I like doing things ahead of time, so that I don’t get surprised. Anticipation. Preparedness. All seemingly virtuous, desirable characteristics. That is, … [Read More]

The Dance of Grit, The Dance of Grace.

It’s like a pit in my stomach. I can feel it sit there, unable to be digested. Two weeks. Every minute seems to be filled with a different emotion, making my hours diverse and complicated, making the days exhausting. These fluctuating feelings do not respect my unconscious hours, as they have now begun invading my … [Read More]