I haven't been much for writing the past few days. I've been preoccupied with real life. That's what I get for being so joyful that fall is here because it means I'd be more busy.
The good news from this weekend, of course, is that the Tigers are in the playoffs. I can think of nothing to say that would be satisfying as far as trash-talking or savoring the moment goes. So I posted the picture instead.
Mrs. Jeff and I were driving around last night, and a Rascall Flats song came on the radio. It's that new one that's slow and twangy and sappy. I turned to her and said, "It's been my experience that every person I've heard claim to be a Rascall Flats fan is a chick." She replied, "Um...yeah. They're a country boy band." She's much more of a country music person than I am, so I felt very affirmed.
I've entered a very interesting place within myself. For one thing, it's a place that realizes the limitation of another book's scope. It's a place that isn't satisfied with any more "Tap into your church's creative energy" emerging church titles or "How does the divinity of Christ as portrayed by Matthew apply to oppressed Rwandans" United Church titles or "Barrel through with your plan to introduce powerpoint in worship" Purpose-Driven titles. I haven't picked up a book in almost a week. And it's not just a book thing. I've sat with people this week whose concerns make mine seem irrelevant and insignificant. I've also sat with people whose concerns seem irrelevant and insignificant compared to the other people's. This is a weird place from which to minister because some stuff just seems so tiny in comparison to what I've seen and heard this week. I've tried to come up with a tactful example, but I can't right now.
If the blog seems to go for days without new substantial material, that's why. What is there to say? Maybe that's a little overdramatic on my part, but I'm issuing that forewarning just in case.