Post Tenebras Lux

I spend nine months out of my year complaining about how stressed out I am (though I love my studies) and that I never have enough time to meditate and drink coffee at the local Starbuck’s over a good book while my iPod plays Dave Matthews Band lazily. Well, summer is here with lazy [hardly!] days, and yet I feel as if my brainpower was zapped away once the thermometer hit 90 degrees! I’ve got my book. I’ve got my Starbucks and my iPod handy. I’ve even got a few hours to enjoy, but yet my mind is slowly wasting away. Perhaps I’m addicted to cortisone, and without all the stressors which beckon that magic elixir, my brain refuses to clock in for the day. Perhaps.

Essentially, this is a long wind-up before I simply confess that I haven’t written for two weeks because, honestly, I’m (a) Not interesting, or (b) Not observant, for I’ve had not one original thought or witty anecdote as of late. My apologies.

I did write and preach a sermon entitled The Gospel and the Glory of Sex last Sunday at Christ Our Hope Church. It was an odd feeling in the week leading up to the actual Sunday morning, because I knew what was going to be said (well, sort of; I went through at least five drafts of the sermon before I got the final product). You know that it’s going to be strange to stand up in front of a room full of people and talk about sex (in true classic Protestant prude fashion!), but I actually really enjoyed preaching this sermon. This is not to say that the sermon was that great, because I’m keenly aware now of some things that I missed or should have said, but it was an experience that I highly enjoyed and would love to take another stab at in a few years.

That’s all you get. Why? Because I’m boring and all out of stories.