Wagons East.

It's quiet. Too quiet. (crickets chirping, rocking chairs creaking, and in the distance, an old man coughs) I'm anxiously awaiting moving day. Mom isn't. Last night during IKE, I asked Dad if he'd get me a piece of Clint's graduation cake; Mom said, "I'll get it...if you stay this summer." I'd love to Mom. I like home. I like watching my Dad work and watching him play (he's building a lake, boys!) and I like wrestling with my ol' dawg. But I gotta go. I gots to have the presence of mind that knows I'm doing what God made me to do. Work with kids. Love 'em. Wrap them up in my heart and let them wipe their nose on it if they want to. Prayer request: That I don't get so caught up in "loving" them that I forget that love means integrity, honesty, and saying "No."

Lord, thank you for all the people that have loved me with real love. Love that says no when it must, love that sets boundaries and in kindness enforces them, love that confronts sin. Thank you for love's hugs, it's prayers, it's words, it's quiet presence. Thank you for my parents.