It troubles me to write about what appears to be a trinity of disparate passages and yet how much they run parallel to my own life right now.
After living 37 years in NYC, I’m moving to the southern climate of Atlanta. I feel the love/hate of my walk in the wilderness of my life up to the present — perhaps like both Moses and Aaron, yet Aaron never made it to the Promised Land and then it was his time to die. (Moses too.) Hey, wait, after all that? Poof!
I wonder why there was such heightened fervor remembered in the beginning and only towards the end of this long trail of their lives. I wonder if it is also like that when you get a new puppy, a new friend, a new spouse — heck, in my case, a new City.
I wonder if I will have the heart to love others — or even enough food to eat.
I wonder if my friends will also not make it to the Promised Land, gosh all that after 40 years. I wonder how we have heightened moments of pain and suffering even within our short forty-day journey inward, inward into our own spirit.
In.
Can I just wipe my own slate clean and be born again — will I be saved from all this distress? Can I just skip ahead to the good stuff — I mean, the God Stuff? I wonder if the space between each word IS the Peace, which passes all understanding — the God Stuff indeed.
