i think the lack of blogging, writing, is mental laziness. or perhaps insecurity. there are so many people here, on the internet, these days. and--i care what you think of me.

but i want an account, a history. something true, and transparent for this chapter.
i wrote awhile back that this life (this life) is a testimony of god's faithfulness. it is more true every day.

so, as a preface, this is where i am:

i am living in nairobi. there is too much empty space in my flat. i spend a lot of time on the fire escape. and, when the music and moment overtake me, i dance in the hall.

i am settling into a strange pattern of life: weeks of airplanes, motels, unfamiliar currencies, unfamiliar faces, strange stories and strangers, joy.
then home is a chaos of exhaustion, loneliness, gluttony, insomnia, emotion and work.
then, again. and again.

all my hope must be entirely in his faithfulness. i have none.