Sea.Son.

I don't know if anyone is even reading these, but these words in my head and this heaviness on my heart must go somewhere. So here I am, again procrastinating my homework, pushing away my workload, pausing from prayer because like I said these words must fall somewhere.

Season. The word of the day, the theme for the moment. So bare with me, I'm going to be completely illogical and not practical or realistic, or true to any law of grammar deciphering or to any hermeneutic maneuver. Season. My current season of life is exactly as that word looks. Sea: I'm living a short walk from the white breaking waters, my entire internship/job/lifestyle is revolving around a sport performed on the sea. Son: my entire life is revolving around Him, chasing Him, pursuing Him.

This morning I ran. I left my flat and I ran down the winding hill 6:20am. First a left, another left, curve right, cut through that yard, down the hill, onto DaGama Street, look for cars and cross, run the gravel, past the park, turn right, up that street, wind the hills and houses, last right into the small parking lot 6:32am. I sat on the wooden bench, breathing. As the surfers walked slowly, looking hesitant & disappointed in the lack of swell. As the clouds sat upon the water's crest, looking dark & heavy, tired as if they lost a night's sleep. The waves small, deciding to break right on the rock's face. To the left, the vegetation gave a trail into the fog that hid the houses and the arching bay. To the right, the shrubbery shrugged off the fog and opened just enough to see the entire town

sitting under this cloud. 6:40am back on Dagama, back to the flat. The next time I stepped out my door the sun was well endowed and taking his rightful place in the sky 8:20am.

All this to say, sometimes you can't

even see the waves your suppose to surf. Sometimes you can't even see those waves your suppose to sail, but you are still obligated to paddle out. Because we, as the human race, no matter our season of life are still obligated to participate. I can't fully explain this season I'm in, other than the Son has all of my attention and I'm flirting with the sea more than anyone else.

So this is the season I think Im in. A season that when the clouds are resting on my playground, I still get out there. On those days I feel inadequate, afraid or broken-hearted I still set sail. When I'm sitting in the midst of sleep deprived clouds, I need to know confidently that the Son will come out and take his rightful place and lead me into the day.

Today I decided I wanted to see the world a little more like Dan Eldon, I wanted to fight more like William Wallace, I want to speak like Abraham Lincoln and I want to love like Mother Teresa. In words I want to be an artist, an adventurer and an activist; I want to fight for what I believe in no matter who stands in my way and how outlandish my vision may be; I want to be introspective in my silence and speak out with pure motivations to humbly lead people in the right direction; I want to stay

so close to Jesus that I may spread love into every corner and every heart of this world of ours.

So I ask you; What season are you in? What lens are you looking through, what are you fighting for, what are you saying, who are you loving?