I am reading a book by Richard Rohr called “Everything Belongs.” I hope it will break me out of the spiritual rut I’ve been in. Each line of this book is profound. I have to reread every paragraph before I am ready to go on with the next. One line echoed what I learned in psychology class, “you don’t think your way into new ways of living, you live your way into new ways of thinking.” The book really breaks through modern Western thought and I want to do more of that.

“I believe that we have no real access to who we are except in God. Only when we rest in God can we find the safety, the spaciousness, and the scary freedom to be who we are, all that we are, more than we are, and less than we are.”

I woke up yesterday morning at Hilton Head, an island off the coast of South Carolina. It was a fun hanging out with the teens there. I hung out with several of them a couple years before, and I was so excited to see them again. After the event a dozen of us went walking along the beach till one in the morning. The last time I was on a beach in South Carolina was a couple years ago, hand-in-hand with a girl I had met the week before: Meredith.

I slept through most of the flight home. Matt M.’s parents were over our house having brunch as I dragged my luggage up the stairs. It’s nice to see people LIVING in our apartment, not just sleeping there. I think “living” always comes when you have a woman. Guys, by nature, tear through continents and dorms, falling asleep wherever they can.

It was time to go looking for a new home. For four hours and seventy miles, I drove all around Phoenix area. In way southeast Phoenix, I stopped to get a Vanilla Coke at the quintessential Arizona roadside stop. It was so classic, I was waiting for a jeans commercial to happen around me.

I spotted a really cute 1930’s cottage close to downtown. I walked in the open house and said I had just moved here from New York. “Just from New York” snaps Realtors awake. I seem to get more respect, sometimes. She explained to me how historic districts “work” in Arizona. Yes I was lucky, because this cottage was just as people want them: not corrupted with modern amenities. She explained to me that new kitchens, appliances, and floors instantly dropped the value of the home. Hmmm…so you want the home “all original”, just like a 1930’s Model T in a junkyard? I’ll drive a mint condition ’69 Mustang, but don’t expect me to live in an “all original” leaning shack from 80 years ago. I asked her if the house comes with the stock lead paint too. She said, “of course…it’s a lot of money to take that off.” Whew…I am glad the owner left that prize ritual for me. As Charlie Brown would say, “good grief.”

Last night Monsignor Dale unleashed the thunder. You just wanted to yell out “AMEN!” I know how much it takes to write a homily like that. I am so thankful he gives all he can. As exhausting as this weekend was, I was refreshed stepping out of St. Tim’s last night.

Mondays are always so exciting for me. In another hour I’ll be at the studio having fun. I already have plans till Thursday. Let the week begin!