Is it as I get older that I become less sure, more inclined to explore, looking for words that better call for open minds and open hands – letting our stones fall to give room for embrace.
Is it as I get older that I sadden at the confidence (arrogance?) of those who fashion words as weapons who channel living streams into moats with no thought to building boats with all efforts on draw-bridge defenses less our certainties be conquered by those with much bigger shields and sharper swords.
Is it as I get older that my bent prayers creak louder and are prone to deeper pain and I better appreciate why Jesus barely contained his despair at ill-disciplined disciples and the divergence of their words and actions because I am Peter and John – I run with more questions than answers but with tears at how he manages to love me after all.