Do you remember the canyon that serves as the backyard to my house?
There is a creek, there is a glade, there is a cliff of clay and fallen trees.
My friend once said that was the last place he really felt like a kid. Felt like a real kid.
Well that felt like a compliment, to me. (Though truthfully I have no bearings on what effect the backyard has on people; it is it's own entity.)
And so I believe that is why I sat out there tonight, summoning an entirety apart from myself. The black had fell again - so a wall of feeling drips into the canyon with the evening - removing the scenery and leaving what I mentioned months ago: wild glory, simple authority.
Something that scares me nightly. But tonight in particular I sat with my back to the house, the lights my dad left on throwing my shadow over the porch and out onto the wall of dark. My heart wasn't racing like I expected it too during that confrontation. It was 3 am and my mind was clear. I sat that way without moving for a long time - I felt my slow breaths.
"You need to take time to ask God for things, Lyndsay. It's okay to ask. It shall be given, and I really don't think he is referring to material possessions at this point. You are knit together and set apart. Ask."
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