Writing On The Road

This is yet another post written out on a motel paper pad with a motel pen.  I was sitting outside our motel room by the creek when I wrote it.  A very loud group of drunk people had just left for the evening (to go to the casino on the corner-the one where Carol lost all that dough last week), which made it a lot easier for me to read Why We Love The Church by Ted Kluck and Kevin DeYoung. (I don't generally reread books, but this one is definitely worth it.)  As I wrote, our neighbor was playing his guitar.  The wind was rustling through the trees, singing along.  We couldn't have ordered a better night-perfect for reading and writing outside.  I reflected on, and wrote about, the abundant kindnesses of God seen in just that day-from the coffee-fueled walk through the woods in the morning to the Texas-style BBQ we had for dinner.  There was much to be thankful for in between, too:  breakfast with friends (chocolate chip pancakes-that's what I ate, not a description of my friends), amazing views, good conversation, and a nice desire to get out and get moving.