both feet in both worlds.

Fall is come. Her leaves are swirling in the moonlit night. The drips of rain put me to sleep and I dream of the days to follow. Her rain falls for a brief moment in the morning before the blue sky comes into view; my hands freeze as I lock the car door, peering a few inches ahead at my warm breath in the crisp air. And then another fall day begins, and I am desperately trying to find time for the reading, writing, picture taking, tea drinking, and sleeping that must come with this busyness that is fall.

I live with two feet in two worlds.

Two feet are a junior in high school, in honors classes with the best teachers in the world. These two feet live on the west side of Washington state, writing papers and frantically studying for the PSAT, barely making it through Chemistry. These two feet need to put the phone in a box and be still and know that He is God.

And two feet are loving on precious little ones in Yakama, the precious little ones that I love so dearly and miss so terribly: the little ones who squint their eyes in the glorious sunshine after church and whisper praises on their small lips. These two feet fear for the small ones, the ones who come, week after week, hungry and cold as crisp fall turns to icy winter. These two feet rejoice in the growth of His church. These two feet feel at home on the east side of the pass.

May I have the words of Paul, as he spoke to the Philippians: "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content."