heavy.

In quick summation, the last few weeks around my zip code and the zip codes surrounding have been heavy.

That word, in a way, seems inadequate. Inadequate because it's short and easy to understand and that  happens to be the exact opposite of what has been happening. It hasn't been short and it's not easy to understand.

The vagueness of this post is intended and not meant to create intrigue in anyway. This isn't a cry for help or a silly attempt to gain attention.

Writing has always been a release mechanism for me. When I'm sad I write, when I'm most happy, I write even more. Growing up, I wasn't the best at expressing my feelings or emotions for several reasons and the only way I knew how to get my point across way to write it down. But, also writing serves as a buffer between myself and the world that I actually operate in. You see, in my writing, it's my way or the highway. I get to make up the rules and the way things go, I get to decide what's stupid or unfashionable. I get to tell Congress how to operate. I'm the only one in charge. Unfortunately, in the world that I actually live in, my pen and paper do little to change the outcome of situations.

A few weeks ago I stood in a hospital room with some of my dearest friends and we cried and we prayed and we hoped. We longed for an outcome that didn't happen and wasn't part of the Lord's plan.

In between that time and now a lot of other things have happened that most people who know me at all would consider "blog worthy." There was the Petrino scandal with my beloved Hogs, Pat Summitt retired, I started running (on purpose), I started painting my nails (on purpose), I quit drying my hair in the mornings and just "let it go." These are all big things in my life, but with some perspective they are silly things. Worldly things. Not blog worthy things at all.

I am not naive enough to sit here and believe that no one reads what I write. I play it cool a lot, but kids, I have Google Analytics. I know you read this and I know your grandmother's social security number by the time you're done reading.

So, with that being said, I ask two things of you: First, stick with me. I'll get back to it, I promise. Stick with me and make all of our collective internetS dreams come true-- I'll get a book deal, you can read about the "Bachelor/ette." Second, pray for my friends. Pray for my future BFF, Olivia. And don't just pray, believe. Believe that God is good and that God is strong. Believe that God is who He says He is and that He does what He says He'll do.

Do that for me and we'll get back to those idiots in Congress and the slutty morons on my television.
I promise.

I serve a big God. A mighty God. And well, that's pretty blog worthy.