Five of us, self-named the “The Gray Hogs,” rode to Yellowstone National Park and the Black Hills of South Dakota in late June, 2011. The hair color of Jerry, Mick, Brad, Dave and I certainly had earned the term gray, and a photo taken later Aspen caused my wife to remark that we’d all been hogs more than once in our lives.
The Glory of Guilt
Stuck
I got stuck. Not in the frustratingly omnipresent but usually innocuous SoCal traffic, nor in job situations where we regularly have to deal with those less perfect than ourselves. Nothing so simple. I got stuck with God. Oh, I still believed and did what I should. Mostly, at least. And I saw him marvelously move in my life. But I lost the intimacy, the sense of close contact. It bothered me, especially that it went on for over a year.