I think it's one of my favorite places on this earth. Living so close to it has been absolutely incredible. Late at night I often walk over to it and spend some time there alone with my thoughts and God. The cement stands climb up to not much of a view, but it's high enough to feel a good wind. The few lights cast suspect shadows in occasional places. I love the smell of the turf against my back. Tonight it was too cloudy to see the stars, and it was slightly damp. But that didn't bother me at all.
Someone might see me there late and night, and every now and then someone else is there, and maybe to them it might seem a little creepy. That is sad. Fear grows in our world on every patch of ground, simply because it has a place in some.
I saw a couple arrive there on their bikes. They walked to the center of the field and laid on their backs, looking up at the sky. I've laid there before, longing to share that with someone. I watched them (not in a creepy way) from the concrete steps, the superior digging into my back. Someday maybe.
Does it make sense that somehow it is harder that God is there, that he continues to speak and be present? For some reason there is a part of me that thinks it would be easier if God really did abandon me, because then it would be like I would have something to hold against him. But nope. He's still there, still with me. So I'm left with no choice but to have faith, damn it. Ok maybe that's a little tongue and cheek, but just trying to make light of it a bit. And no, that doesn't mean I actually want God to disappear on me. Just a weird sentiment.
(I hope you've enjoyed these pictures I took late one night back in august. I always find it funny when people take pictures of themselves, so don't think I take myself too seriously )