Robb Schiller

The last 12 hours have been explosive.

And super hot. So hot my eye­balls are burn­ing and it hurts not to blink every 4 seconds.

We saw a dust­nado tear­ing through the plains of AZ.

We almost stopped at a ostrich farm and rode pre-historic birds.

But prob­a­bly the coolest thing of all has been the total change in sceen­ery. Some­how, last night dur­ing the dark­ness we crept into the part of Amer­ica the tec­tonic plates don’t get along as well and decided to explode moun­tians. We slept in the car for 3 hours under­neath one of the big exploders.

Another inter­st­ing thought has been crawl­ing through my synap­tic fir­ings as well. This morn­ing, lis­ten­ing to Bon Iver and beau­ti­ful as it ever could have been, I was think­ing about the majesty of time. Pos­si­bly because I’ve spent a whole lot of it in the car latly, or because I was going to see my grand­par­ents and they’ve seen a lot of it. But time, and not time as the ever chug­ging, ever wors­en­ing thing which we loathe because who knows what tomor­row will bring. But time as the gift, time as the bless­ing which God is con­tin­u­ally breath­ing into his cre­ation of human life. Time as the thing which makes your odome­ter churn past 2,287.7 mi for one trip. Times chronol­ogy I think is usu­ally looked down upon because it’s so mys­te­ri­ous, how often do we for­get the truth of Christs com­mand from the Ser­mon on the Mount not to worry about tomor­row, time. Not to worry about it but to embrace it because our cre­ator and lover is the one who made it and is in it. What of we began to see time as the thing which gives the artist abil­ity to fin­ish his work, to lit­er­ally think of it back­wards. A line of ink turn­ing into a giant smear now has the chance to become a line, because of the choices ahead, because God is mak­ing it.

Time is on our side, because time belongs to God.

The explo­sion we slept under. The sun mak­ing day. Wild bob­cats. Fam­ily tree. Sign. A great goodie from the gas station.