doing singleness the wrong way...

flipping shut the novel i checked out of the library here on the base a few days ago, a murder mystery called 'The Poet', i'm nearly to page 100 of the paperback, and the action's starting to kick into high gear, as the protagonist, Jack McEvoy--a homicide reporter at a Denver newspaper--stumbles onto a theory that link's his cop brother's recent suicide with another cop suicide 2000 miles away in Chicago, making it look like a serial killer. he sets his sights on Chicago, D.C., and the FBI HQ on the east coast, aiming to track down this story.

McEvoy's a 35-year-old bachelor who's lived in the same apartment for the past 9 years, working the same reporter beat at the paper.

reading about his life suddenly taking a turn for... (at least) the more interesting and exciting, i found myself strapping on my bag, slipping into my sandals, throwing on my shirt, shrugging sleep off, grabbing my 1.5 liter Kilimanjaro water bottle, with the label ripped off, and heading down the steps from my bunk in the dorm room, toward the bathroom. stop at the sink on the way out, scrub my face with water and wake myself up, then run my fingers through my hair that i'm growing out in a rather mottley fashion, and head out into the open courtyard, feeling invincible.

standing coolly in the shadows, my unkempt brown hair striking strange shadows across the tan bricks and chop-cut grass behind the short bushes, i breathe deeply, and suddenly realize the attitude shift that's come over me.

i suddenly feel like i'm on top of the world. i'm only going to check my email and perhaps blog a bit, really, so why this high? nothing fancy or new about me... just the bag i spent less than 14 bucks on in town, after getting a wad of cash out of the NBC ATM in Arusha. maybe it's because everything went so smoothly, or just because i am dwelling so much in God's goodness to me, that i'm frankly forgetting the key to all of this:

once i get to feeling this good, i'm likely to forget where the source of this joy really is.

i am liable to phase God out of the celebration, right at the kick-off.

i am on the verge of doing singleness the wrong way. where i start to get the hyper-inflated sense of self-worth, and my own ability to get involved and actually influence things. me and my intentionally shabby appearance begin to form an ego to go along with the care-freeness of it all.

i gotta remember--and reclaim--the simple truth of this only working if it's only about Jesus. not about being single.
the latter's great and all, but not if it's not filled in by something much, much better!

it's a daily thing: re-working on that. but it's good. just can't get too caught up with the crazy hair and the deadly hyper-inflation of Asher.

Peace.
Jesus.
Love.

-archer