Flying, falling.
Can one choose?
Can one even tell?
Will God help us? Will we let Him.
'God helps those who help themselves.' Or, 'Not by works, lest any man should boast.'
Is it possible to stay on the edge of the cliff and not take the leap. The leap we call life. 'Helping' ourselves by staying put. The unknown, peering down into perceived emptiness, imagining the horrers. Knives, pills, ropes, waiting. Waiting to destroy us by our weakness. Our pain. Our humanity.
'They that are whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick.'
Or are we all just suspended in that moment - holding our breath, spending eternity waiting for the verdict. Cartoon caracters running off a presipice but not yet realizing gravity.
Some people fall. It doesn't bear thinking about, that. Only a prayer, a prayer for their souls. For our own.
Oh my Father who art in heaven, give me wings that I might fly!

I love writing notes. And recieving them. Don't know why. Always have, I think. Whiteboard notes, paper notes, notes for other people, notes I've written, notes for me. For me especially. They make me feel all warm and cozy inside. This would be why I write Kris notes even when I probably don't need to. I just like to.

What I put into this last weekend -
Gas money.
Some eggs.
Some granola bars.
Time.
Money put into gifts.

What I got out of this weekend -
A bruise on my but.
A speeding warning from the RCMP.
A wonderful weekend with friends and family.
The look on Eli's face when she saw me(us).
The satisfaction of a job well done - we kept the secret! Dang well, too, if you ask me.