"Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.

Therefore, shake off your complacency and repent. See, I stand knocking at the door. If anyone listens to my voice and opens the door, I will go into his house, and dine with him, and he with me. Revelation 3:19-20

He is seeking me out. Persistent and faithful, He knocks, waiting.

And when I weary of the me-ness and same old dreariness of going it alone, I simply have turn turn the handle of my mind. 

Complacency does not mean being comfortable with the stagnant air or the tattered belongings scattered or stacked carelessly on flat surfaces. But it's more about growing accustomed to the sticky floor and the dim light. It's not even bothering to get up off of the couch to throw open the shutters and lift up mine eyes to the hills.

And as I sit here and stare it in the face, I suspect that complacency is a mixture of fear and hopelessness hiding behind the mask of pretty good. It could be worse.

Last night there was a family celebration in the high-up home of Juan and Lisa, celebrating the full of hope and joy promises of Julie and Brian, with two more bottles of Campostrini champagne. And the big sky perspective over busy dots of lights down below are remindful of what is good and true. 

Come in, come in.