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I definitely err on the side of loving the world too much and not wanting it to end any time soon. One of my dearest friends in seminary would go on regular hikes with me and every now and then he would stop in the middle of the trail with tears running down his face. I would stop too and ask something pastoral like, “What the hell is wrong with you?” He would reply, “It’s so beautiful and some day we will die.” I’m sure he was a hit at parties too.

I feel like that is the place where I live. There is so much that is beautiful and there is so much death. (This could be a place to talk about sin and fear of death). I’m not even going to say that it’s my death I worry about the most. It all dies, the trees, the flowers, my friend, my ability to hike, the sun. Wow. 

And it all matters. 


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