Day Eleven: Excerpt [Journal 1, One-Quarter Through]

I’m sitting in a park overlooking San Francisco. It’s 1PM,
and there’s no appointments to claim me.

The houses look edible around here, but they’re nothing
in comparison to the hills against the sky, and beyond that, the sliver of the
bay. I saw the bay up close yesterday. The waves were constant against the
rocks; the water was more white than blue.

There’s no inherent meaning in that. I could chase the
water all day long, and I’d find no answers. So how to approach it?

With awe.

With gratitude.

As a reminder. My life flows in similar patterns. There’s a purpose to it, but not
apart from the God who set it in motion and sustains it.