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I'm working out as many days as I can in an empty old gym that everyone around here calls, "the old gym." I put my tunes on and then do a series of nerdy, sweaty exercises to make me feel strong and also sweaty. 20 something days into this new plan my back hurts and my arm hurts and now what am I supposed to do? 

Ignore it and keep going.

I'm listening to masters of our (Emily Dunbar and my) soon to be released Bluestem Psalter:Volume 1. We did it ourselves, we tried our best and I love it because it sounds like us and it's the truth. You can't ask for much more. In my book, that feels like winning.

Presently, while I listen to these tunes on headphones, I'm drinking this beer and the boys are playing Settlers of Catan in the living room. There's no school tomorrow, there's snow on the ground and they're talking about more snow for tomorrow. The wind isn't blowing, the temperatures are staying cold cold and this week there were parent teacher conferences. If that's not the bleak midwinter, then I don't know what is.

Tomorrow I'll be on the radio in the morning (tune in at 9am to NET radio for Friday Live!!), I'll drop off the sound equipment in Seward before coming home, rehearsing, packing and heading over to Grand Island for the Pastors Wives Retreat. I think I heard the hotel has a hot tub so that's great.

It is the bleak midwinter. It's too reflective for its own good. The snow's too white, the world's too still, the air's too cold and the wind doesn't even blow. I'm wondering what the world will look like once spring comes. I hope it looks better than it does right now. 

I wonder what I'll be like once spring comes. Same, but different. Better, but worse. Stronger in some ways, weaker in others and we all float on alright. The midwinter will soon pass away into melting and then warming and then shining and then buds on the trees. I'm ready.

 

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