The Plot Thickens With Age

When we come to Fair Haven our lives are swallowed into physical intimacy of meaning.  Our home is one room with one wall of glass making our home as large as light and vision produce and as intimate as living in a single room.  In this room is a firebox that completes the other elements, earth, air and water that is our home.  It is my job to get the wood, split it, daily fill the firebox and keep the fire’s warmth keeping us warm.  I rise in the dark and begin that task.  My lover sleeps, which is like a balm to my old weariness, she is safely in my care and I am able.  Able also holds great meaning for me because of the reality of God’s kingdom lying just behind the veil and of all the war and well of that truth.  The elements foundational meaning pales in comparison to my own role in home and hearth lived in the context of the great comic reality that plays out in the Spiritual invisibility that makes up most of reality.  I am able only as I am made able, for nothing in me as a human can rise to the daily task of being the me that is needed for one great truth of being able; the plot greatly thickens with age.