Yes, I'm still here

I often hear that I'm not blogging enough. It's true. I know that I should share more, express more, report more. It just takes so much to do so. I'm not a natural storyteller like Donna Renee, or a verbal processor like Angela. I have to experience and mull and synthesize things. The things that I come away with are gut feelings, impressionist strokes that don't translate easily into blog-ese.

I have imprints of faces of people I've grown to love in these driveby intimate moments. I have washes of gratitude, helplessness, hopefulness. I have come to know the value and quality of old friends. I have come to cherish the light of new friends. There are shadows of lostness that break my heart. At times I'm overwhelmed with blue humility, when I realize our camp is right, but also wrong, and the other guys know sides of God we forget. I've come to appreciate the dots of color around the country where God shows us He's working--a snapshot here, a glimpse there. Brush strokes, lines, variety, shading. Picture of God all over this country. Hard to blog.

I'll try to write more, try not to be selfish with all He's showing us. I just don't want to do this poorly, to put down the easy things or the cliches. I want you all to feel this trip, not just see it. Just be patient with me. It just takes a while for the paint to dry...