wendell says 'practice resurrection'

The burnout

The grey

The cement

The isolation

The wires and plugs

The pixels and time

The artificial lights...

Being unfruitful in the global-interconnected-city.

I read some Wendell Berry, and I found an antidote.

Sometimes I want to move to the country, work the ground, grow a crop, and eat it/share it. I want my hands to feel the dirt, and sense growth and fruitfulness. I'm not sure if the fields would receive me well. Regardless, I want to be the steward who faithfully embraces the gift of God that is work.

So, I endeavour to labour fruitfully in the city, for the city is where I'm called to call home.

(click on Wendell for his poem)