Melancholy

Where does it come from? Sometimes I like to cozy up to it, curl my fingers into it's shaggy fur and listen to the patter of raindrops. Other times, I'd rather shove it aside without an answer. How to make peace with it. How to live with its questions. How to celebrate its beauty. How to laugh in the middle of a rainstorm.

Empty your pockets

I picked up Yancey's book Church: Why bother? His story closely resembles my own. He began in fundamentalist christianity, but as an adult struggled with God. I would be happy to throw in the towel on the church, but I haven't been able to. There is still a draw for me. Not because I believe it makes me a better person. Not because someone told me I needed to be there. Somewhere in the midst of the mess of redeemed humanity, there is grace.

Those little pockets of grace.