Evening light in the trees and the smell of the woods and the sound of water. Driving back on a dusty gravel road and just wanting to be home with Barb and I feel this quiet, steady sense of God’s presence, as if God is like the light and like the feel of the air and that I can turn my head and miss Him entirely, jump tracks and not feel Him, but that I can turn back and there He is, all around me, everywhere.
No need to fantasize. To imagine myself anywhere else. I am just on this gravel road, driving back in the evening light, through the trees, along a stream.
I don’t know where I’m going, except that I’m going home.
Driving Away From Shotpouch
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