T minus twenty hours and thirty minutes until Cheech's plane to Phoenix takes him far far away from me.
Will he survive without kimchi and kalbi and tofu jigae? Will he survive without Omma and Appa (and me) nagging him all the time? Will he survive without the changing leaves as autumn comes, and the view of varied landscapes? Will he survive as gets thrown back into the life of a student, but not just any student -- one who is now being trained for a vocation and a lifestyle? Will he make friends who are good for him and to him? Will he find a church and attend regularly, to receive sustenance when his brain and body are weary? Will he study hard and do well and achieve his potential? Will he be safe as he travels back and forth?
Sigh. Not in my hands, but in Yours.
***
DOOFUS . . .
I didn't know there was major humanitarian crisis in Sudan. I'm such a jerk.
***
ACK! . . .
I just received the application package for a four-year fellowship in the city. I have to write an essay. Sheesh. I haven't written an essay since I was applying to law schools. And it has to be limited to 500 words. Sheesh. Don't these people know my penchant for verbosity? Sigh.
***
NO SHAME . . .
On permanent loop on the mp3 player inside my head:
to be mad for my King!
Nothing, Lord, is hindering this passion in my soul.
I will dance, I will sing
to be mad for my King!
Nothing, Lord, is hindering this passion in my soul!
And I'll become even more undignified than this!
Some may say it's foolishness,
But I'll become even more undignified than this!
Leave my pride by my side.
La la la la la la, HEY!
All for You, my Lord!
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