words make everything better.

a copy of The Book of Mormon. it feels rather strange not to have a copy in my hands at all times anymore. it feels rather strange not to be expected to flip open to particularly appropriate or comforting verses after every meal. it feels rather strange that instead of being carried around everywhere I go, my scriptures are sitting quietly next to my bed in their case. I wonder if they feel abandoned.

I don't often speak of my religion here. this is not the place for it, I decided. it is something mine. something I know and cherish and explore in my own little world with a few fat books of scripture and commentary, a pen, a notebook, and many prayers.

and so I hope not too many of you will be disappointed when I gloss over my last year and a half with not many details all gushed out right now upon my having been home one sluggish week. part of me is tempted to review all of my work. all of the miracles. all of my trying and triumphant experiences. photographs, scribblings, epiphanies and all. part of me needs to tell it all. write it all. justify it all.

but this is not the place for it.