8 Months (Or Until I Get to California)

That's how long I'm fasting shaving my beard.

I've been journaling lately. It might seem like I haven't been writing anything of substance these days, but I have. It's just become more personal, and it's all been going into my prayer journal. Maybe, if I find the time, I'll come back and update this blog. I have a few stories I'd like to tell. One of them about my mother's love for me and how it is shown by her sacrifice in the little things. Another about how my blog posts about Jesus are like two playing cards propping each other up. How they are a flimsy construction, but when viewed at a certain angle—and the angle here is key—come to be a representation or image of something beautiful. Another, a story about how most people don't really believe what they say they do, but that there's still hope out there somewhere. And lastly, about my grandma who has stage IV cancer and is going to die. How I love her, and have prayed for her, and pray for her still. And how she is a Christian, that they're aren't many in my family, how her courage inspires me, and how her service humbles me. She is a faithful, praying woman of God, and I really don't want her to go. I wish I could spend more time with her, but I'm here in New York, and she is in California. And that thought, sometimes, tortures me.