Although I’d like to believe I’m in control of my life, evidence keeps showing up to prove otherwise. At times, I feel as if I am a character in a play, whose is finding his role within an already written script. Let me explain:

Yesterday I went to get some groceries, and as I was about to enter the grocery store, I noticed a woman by its entrance, sitting on her bike, asking a question to a man who had just bought his groceries. Their conversation lasted for about two seconds since the man soon walked away. Thinking she was asking for directions, I asked her if she was looking for an address.

I recently attended my brother’s wedding in Omaha, Nebraska. As he is stationed at the air force base there, he decided to have his wedding in the chapel on base. I appreciated the quaint beauty of the chapel. Growing up in a church that met in an old downtown office building, I always like a visit to a church with pews, stained glass and some sort of crucifix at the front of the room. It always incites a sacred and peaceful atmosphere that is more difficult to come by in the functional, eschatological-focused church habitations.