and one out.

i glance up at my reflection in the window, then back down to the screen, then back up, my eyes glance around my desk to all the artifacts that are set rightly in place. they will be moved soon. for good. i watch the minutes pass on my travel clock that sits on my set of matthew henry's. my eyes are heavy from the long day of work in the hot sun. flying gables, i glance back up [in thought], are quite challenging. something about it is satisfying, though. it feels good to be outside working in the hot sun, dripping wet, having trouble keeping water in you, before you sweat it out, having your arms cut by nails while banging the wood into place, struggling to hold the gable all while your biceps are burning and your eyes stinging, and yet, it's a great feeling when it's complete. that sense of achievement. [i stretch my fingers as even now they are sore and achy]

and this experience is something i share with the guys i work with. we all feel this. this physical triumph of sorts. but it's not my body that will continue to hurt days and years down the road, it's my heart. physical pain and sacrifice is so brief when dealing with the longing of the heart.

we talk about God, and they only inform me of His silliness, how God is simply an illusion. One of them informs me how he thinks it would be great if he could convince someone to denounce their faith. my heart breaks at that statement, and i feel so helpless. ron rash has hit on something that is embedded deep within the soul. "that yearning, that sense that sense that part of your heart is unfilled."

why do i always insist on filling it with things that will not last?