(from yesterday)

It's hard to be indistinct, to not even have good ideas to separate me from the crowd. To have days like today in which I could be Anymom, USA. We're kind of obsessed as Americans with believing that God loves us distinctly, individually, as this marvelous unique creation. It's like a million sheep who can't be with the thought of being one in a flock. We need God's love to be so particular, and hate it when it feels universal. But why not be one in a flock? Whose glorification are we seeking? God's or our own?

Today seems dreary in its solitary-ness. All the running around and socializing got stacked up on other days this week. Tending to daily things is all that's left. To be hidden, loving and working in secret. Kind of a rubber-meets-the-road exercise, I suppose.