Voices are especially loud of late, and it’s hard to make sense of it all, and so I have punted several times this week. One of the plaques on my wall says, “Be silly sometimes,” and when it’s hard to make sense of it all, maybe it’s a good idea to take a break and indulge in some nonsense.
The nonsense can be a relief from all the news about people who have taken leave of their senses. I sometimes despair whether they will eventually come to their senses — or I worry that they have not lost their minds, as it certainly appears, but prefer living in chaos filled with rage and hatred.
And so I take refuge in nonsense, and I pick up my guitar and sing songs of love, peace, and on Sunday mornings faith. I find comfort in knowing love still has a place on this planet, peace still beckons reasonable people, and a supernatural power is somehow still in control.
I’m just one man with one voice crying in the wilderness, but if I’m crying out in love, I’ve done all I possibly can.
