Sometimes I just miss being able to lie sprawled out in the grass of the front yard with my face buried beneath the cover of a thick book. Or playing hide-and-seek at night in a cornfield with inseparable friends, our bare feet absolutely filthy. Here in Chicago, my front yard is an intersection and my backyard a metropolis. Needless to say, things are significantly more complex than in the cornfields of Indiana. But does life have less quality now that it is perhaps not as simple? Or is there equivalent sweetness in less obvious experiences?
Lately I have learned the joy in knowledge and understanding, in the adventurousness of independence, and in being relentlessly pursued by a mysterious God. Joys come, go, and change, and just because they are changing doesn’t mean that they are no longer joys. Though there are days when chaos and confusion seem to dominate, where evil is evident and good is obscure, life with all its uncertainty is still lovely.