It's almost one in the morning and I am dog-ass tired. For the last several days I've been existing on 5 hours sleep, about one and half cups of coffee (about 1/3 of my normal intake), adrenalin, hope, old friends, spirit, and the strange sense that somewhere in all of this mess I am somehow finding my life again.
You can hear some podcast examples of what's going on at the PeacePod Page.
I have, in the last 14 hours (not to mention the last three days), been treated to tales of South American torture, U.S. prison injustices, Israeli and Palestinian struggles and frustrations, the difficult path of a trans-gendered person, the burden of the legacy (and continuing evil) of slavery and I even participated in a panel on the plight of New Orleans. You'd think that I would be overwhelmed, and I suppose that there is some way in which I really am. On the other hand... between the incredible music, creative drama, nearly perfect preaching, as well as the the prayers, the joy, and the general sense of life in those around me, it's pretty hard to get depressed.
There is hope in struggle.
There is, in fact, far MORE hope in the struggle for peace and justice and equity in the world than there is in simply letting things be. It may indeed be dark... but the way to the light... is up!
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