I wrote in my journal, “… there are these parts of me, light and dark, love and coldness, hope and despair. It can’t co-exist and eventually crashes all together.”

Is this what scripture means about flesh and spirit? Do other people feel this way?

Whatever is the opposite of wanderlust, that is me. Since I can remember, I have wanted to buy a home with a big porch and live in the same neighborhood until I die.

Instead, I participate in what my parents fondly(?) refer to as “the annual move.”

"Ma'am, can you step forward? I'm going to have to pat you down. Would you prefer a room or to do it here?"

I was annoyed. I fly several times a year, so I'm usually fairly careful about what I wear to an airport, both for maximum comfort and ease of getting through security without a pat down. Apparently my comfy leggings had triggered the TSA scanners today.

Imagine the scene. The table is set with food. Jesus, Simon, and the other guests are reclined about the table, eating their meal. The Pharisees are, as always, on the lookout for evidence of the way Jesus disrupts their world and order.

The infectious sound of a familiar song makes its way up the stairs and into my bedroom. Worship music fills the house from the speaker system downstairs, and my mom and dad walk from room to room rehearsing that morning’s choir selection and singing their favorite songs as they get ready for the day.

I remember sitting in the adequately comfortable chair near the back; I always sat by myself in those days and near the back with the new moms who needed to be able to sneak out at the slightest whimper from the mushy newborn clutched to her chest.