On a recent trip to my hometown in Mount Vernon, Illinois, I saw this sign and remembered one of the nice things about living in the country was the acceptance of guns and the availability of ad hoc target practice locations. Why go to the trouble of driving all the way to a shooting range somewhere (like the one I drive by on the way to work every morning) and paying money when, as you can see, it is not uncommon to pull over beside the road, whip out the old six-shooter, and take target practice against a random, roadside sign when you get the urge? As far as I know, no one has been injured doing this, and the holes actually make the sign less likely to blow away in a windstorm or tornado.
Today, I am feeling “off” in an “everything is fine but I still don’t feel right kind of way.” It went on for a few days until I finally became so desperate that I needed to go and sit on a boulder next to the constant roar of the swooshing brook at Flat Rock Brook Nature Center. I'm trying to let the sounds of the water drown out all of the oppressive thoughts in my head. Sometimes it takes a while. This is the view of where I station myself, and I think the video captures the sound. (I know some people use this kind of soundscape for sleeping, but I use it today to combat oppressive thoughts.) However, one unoppressive thought is conflicting with the rest in my head, a quote I used in the class I'm teaching this semester: “A man whose hands are full of parcels cannot receive a gift. " C. S. Lewis Lewis said this about spiritual dryness, and I guess this is a good description of where I am right now: spiritually dry. And my hands are full of parcels, which resonates wi