I am tired tonight, but not tired enough. Not as tired as I thought I would be. Not as tired as I should be. Or should I?

I am getting my eyes examined tomorrow. That is my only plan.

Funny how we make plans. And then they change. We set our eyes on things. And then they shift.

Things don't seem to work out they way we thought they would. Our prediction of the future is never quite accurate. Hard as we try.

I am tired tonight. Longing for a bed but legs yet unable to crawl in. This isn't the way it was supposed to be. This isn't what I planned. Far from what I hoped. But why do I feel so relieved?

What do you do when the floor falls out under you. I've been thinking of the words, "fell through" a lot today, how you think you've found these sources of security and then suddenly the wood under your feet crumbles into splinters and you find yourself... freefalling. Again. Still.

I leaped. And the ground doesn't feel like I thought it would. It doesn't feel like falling anymore-- just a different land again. Still.

I wonder if this is what the Israelites felt. Always wandering, never home. Where is the promise? I'm sure they asked over and over, step upon weary step over blowing, burning sand. Is there a land for me or is my home this transient existence. I am weary of these lessons. I'm sore from grasping at air. I had a little glimpse-- my finger tip brushed it-- but I let that go too. So I join the weary footsteps of those who came before me. Where shall we walk next? Is there a point? Is there a destination or is my destiny this incessant walking?