There is a glorious resurrection in sequels. I have been listening to a new album all week. I have been rolling my eyes reading reviewers who have a better insight on the Black community than the Black community. I think everything is maddening right now. I want peace so badly but I can't make magic. That isn't to say problems only drive police cars. It isn't so simple. You have to be okay with that. You are not the savior.
I'm sorry; that thought was holding hands with so many others. In one song on the new album the artist asks when things go sour will you stay? When he makes a mistake will you still associate? We are mortal men after all and mortality is really a state of need that we share rather than an appearance that may differ. But still, will we continue to combat?
There is a forgiveness that is required for sequels. The artist's words made me think of bitterness I've bottled. Hurt I've held. Maybe I ran too far? I have an app for that. Friends start with forgiveness.
I've hiked through another week on pins and needles and blades of grass. My wife is greatly expecting and our baby hasn't fully experienced gravity yet. The weight of the world has become the wait of the world to me. In my joy walking to the front door the high school football field is cheering for me, cheering for hope, and cheering for life.
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