Running.

For the first time all semester, I feel the weight of school pressing down on me. It's an odd sensation, after having such an easy time with everything for so long.

But then I remember things like this, when Emily was in Alaska, and we went on epic adventures in Hatcher's Pass. We were chased by ghosts and spirits of dead miners. As long as we ran, we were safe.

Sometimes I just want to run away from here.

Yesterday would have been three years. No regrets. I was thinking last night about this, and this morning Jay's sermon fit it well. He said, "Paul was under house arrest for two years. But God was still sovereign in those two years. He had a reason for them." I will trust Him.