New Spaces and False Starts

I currently sitting at a Dick Tracy sized desk in a new space, an office bigger than my apartment living room. It's easy to make myself think that this new space will somehow make writing different, magically better. A space of my own will surely help me focus a bit more, but it is long term commitment that will make my writing what I want it to be.

Having lived in five disparate locations in five years, then being in Goshen now for another five, I'm starting to understand what our generation is missing with all it's inability to commit to what seems like the mundane. We've essentially sacrificed a profound depth to pursue what seems more thrilling, hoping it will instantly make us the person, even the follower of Jesus, we were always hoping to be, not realizing it's slowly spreading us thinner than we were meant to go and potentially keeping us from the depth and maturity that comes with working through long term issues in long term relationships, or even the ministry opportunities that take twenty or more years to grow to fruition.

In the only words I will ever remember of my least favorite college professor ever, "God takes eight weeks to grow a squash and a hundred years to grow an Oak."