There's a point, at the third day of rain and a week out of communication, that you find the grey sky and the fog to be an actual wall- barring sight, progress, hope. Depression seems to be settling on my skin like a sticky veil. Light, but present enough to be irritating. I can't find anything on earth strong enough to cleanse myself. How often that is true. I cannot find a way to put myself, or rather my heart, on a mountaintop or a sunny meadow, when I am physically being drenched by huge, angry raindrops. It's amazing that my imagination fails so completely when I actually need it, and never when there isn't anything on the line.
Not to say that there is anything on the line right now. There are just a lot of things to miss, and even more schoolwork to replace it with, which isn't really a fair trade. On the up side, I guess, I know I'm supposed to be here.
Even though... sometimes... if I try hard enough- when I close my eyes- I can feel the stark heat of California's summer on my skin, with the lightest of cool breezes making it bearable, on the hillside where I've hiked to hear the voice of God, clearly calling to me in the wilderness.
The sweet part is, God can call to me, and all of us, from wherever we are. Praises.
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