squeezing our toes in deep. cracking the surface. resisting the curiosity of running forward. exchanging the excitement of an adventure for the tension of the present. living in time. we are tiling. digging up. diving down. finding what we are made of, made from. fighting our urge to dream away our problems or pain, allowing our weeds to tutor us in grace, into grace. holding up our hearts against each other and hearing. counting each confronting conversation as gold, growing our relationships into realness. and when defenses fly with all furry we lean into each other. when anger plows its fierceness onto the faces of all we love, we till, we create a cave for rage to rest. and we stay, we fix our feet, firm, finding in all things God is present, tiling our understanding to see eternity.