Crashbox

All is leaves and wind and brittle sunlight today...Quiet, contemplative and pretty. A perfect Autumn day, though it is almost Christmas. Where has this year gone? Everything and nothing has changed, and plans that were concreted in place have been torn from their foundations and tossed to roll down the slopes of tomorrow's shy hopes. And what is to come? We never end up quite who or what or where we thought; but with wry recognition are ready to admit we are not far from the tortured fairyland of childhood. All the innocence, passion and fear of the young mind is not gone; it is merely buried under the so-called 'lessons' of maturity---an excuse for fortifying our souls against all the pain we have experienced that we are sure has been undeserved. Rip it all open---leave these thoughts; throw away the selfish notions that do nothing but keep us from love. Hope, as ever, is the key. Whether ruminating about the past, glorying in a present joy, or trying not to grin about some delight just around the corner, life cannot be allowed to become boring. Lose hope, lose virtue, and you lose not only your soul, but even the momentary happiness you seized at the expense of prudence. For we are a people who have been granted knowledge. We have no excuse. And for all our desperate running, Christ will never give up the chase.