i am not much at writing letters, but if i were, i might try to tell one of my dearest of brothers that...

sometimes our souls - so dry and weary, wandering in the driest seasons of life - can haunt us with their wanting. but it is not the echo of want that truly devastates, it is the thought that, perhaps, this is as good as it gets. cutting through that well-known dark night of the soul, rising and falling with each tossing wave of the tumultuous seas of life. but He always sees our steps. i have been in search of my life for far too long. but its always when i stop looking for it that life seems to have a way of finding me. and i am certain. it too will find you. the warm worn walls of your heart musn't forever echo with the sound of empty, lonely footsteps - so can't we make room for the dance? might we light a few candles and strike up the band? our oldest, dearest friends will all be there. smiles, laughter, sweetest of joys it will be. hiding in the dusty corner your spirit has been hung to collect dust on a shelf with memories of what was and what will never be. the spirit that has the power to break our spell of captivity could dance once more...give it room to step on your toes and smile as you watch it sweep you off your feet. we only live once, but once for ever more. we will run on and on and on. now and forevermore, this is not as good as it gets but only the brink of getting all that is good. pray, won't you join me to taste and see?


(hmmm, perhaps a bit too much jane austen in my life?)