He anoints my thoughts with oil.

He revives my soul, and guides me along right pathways for His name’s sake. Psalm 23:3

A Christian is one who points at Christ and says, “I can’t prove a thing, but there’s something about His eyes and His voice. There’s something about the way He carries His head, His hands, the way He carries His cross–the way He carries me. –Frederick Buechner

Overlooking the bay in Pacifica, in peace.

In His peace, He who has carried me thus far, His tenderness and grace, His lovingkindness. “Standing in the shadows of love” is pulsing in the background, part of Andrew Jones’ Motown soundtrack while he works on Nicole’s website, MyTrueStory.net. And Andrew also replaced my windshield wipers and checked the car oil and air pressure. Lovingkindness. 

And just a few days ago, Jenny was commenting to me that at dawn, shadows are created by the rising sun, a visible image of light taking over the darkness.

And each morning as we face the still-shadowed path of His love, what is true is that I this path is Known. For His name’s sake.

And one cannot even make up the past few days of connections across the years and miles yet woven tightly together in the Spirit.

Who knows?

He knows.

And Carla, Nicole’s team partner in Bali is at this very moment being admitted to the local hospital with dengue fever. And I know how much fun that can be, three days of absolutely mind-blasting pain. The folks at the Clinica de Alamos had handed me a brown paper bag of morphine shots and told me to wait it out. But I didn't have to pop those needles into my own thigh because Dr. John Shaw was visiting that week, running a clinic in Osobaumpo. And with each whack of each needle into my thigh, Dr. John sadly shook his head and said, "It's not supposed to be like this."

And Carla’s WhatsApp texts affirm the embracing arms of Christ, full of His peace and laughing emoj’s, plotting yet another chapter in the sometimes quite even humorous blog of His faithfulness.

And in just a bit I will pop into faithful Rabbit and head over to the Sacramento airport and pick up Clay Pell and begin the journey home. I look forward to even more stories of Knowness, albeit through dark valleys. More oil dribbled down over my soul.

The healing powers of oil are fresh in my body and spirit, since Vivian gifted me with an ever-so-deep tissue massage, so profoundly deep that Joyce’s strong fingers even reached my aching soul.

Restoration.

Be about the Father’s business.

For His name’s sake.

And tomorrow, LW, when the bestickered and now quite bedraggled VW pulls into her new parking space in front of 911 N Sixth Avenue, may my soul rejoice in today’s slightly modified prayer for the journey:

May the peace of the Lord Christ be with me, wherever He may send me.

May He guide me through the long dry wilderness of droughted California desert, protecting through whatever dust storms and traffic jams may await me.

May He bring me home rejoicing, at the wonders He has shown me.

May He bring me home rejoicing, once again into the doors.