The Quest

On Monday, my parents, pups, and I set out on a new adventure. After the closing on my house, we hit the road for a series of days driving from Texas to upstate New York. Our nights' stays would be at places I found on Airbnb  in Little Rock, near Louisville, and near Erie. When I told people I was moving to New York, most were immediately concerned that winter would be unbearable. Keeping in mind that millions of people live further north than Texas, I was sure I'd survive somehow. One individual, however, responded with, "New York is so beautiful. The green there is the greenest green." I've been pondering green ever since. As we drove through East Texas, I noticed how muted the greens were. Some mostly yellow from the summer heat... some sage from the dust... some a muted evergreen when there were stands of trees. In Arkansas, the green got cleaner. There was less dust, less yellow. Moving through Tennessee and into Kentucky, the green was a little bit navy

This is one of my favorite graphics I've created over the past 13 years at FUMC Grapevine. It was for the launch of a new worship schedule, which always makes people uncomfortable. I still loved it. I loved the fresh feel of sprouts coming out of the letters in the font. I loved the dirt that keeps you grounded and reminds you that new things aren't always tidy. I loved the promise of what that plant would be or do or produce when it grows up. I loved the bright points of light in the background, each with their own possibilities. And, I loved Isaiah 43:19... partially because of the question it asks: Do you not perceive it? Sometimes it takes a while to perceive - or acknowledge, anyway - a new thing. Sometimes we fight it... deny it... avoid it. And sometimes we throw wide the door and run through. For the past few weeks, my door has been thrown wide, and I'm running through to a new thing. The dates are now firm, the plans in place. So, now the announcement (drum ro