The land seemed full of creaking and cracking and sly noises, but there was no sound of voice or foot. Far above the Ephel Duath in the West the night-sky was still dim and pale. There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.”

– J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King, 199.

My wife and I moved from south of the Mason-Dixon Line (The ‘Ham, Alabama to be exact) and now live in Philadelphia, PA, the city of brotherly love and horn honking, where I’m studying at Westminster Theological Seminary and working at Harvest USA. We live in the bottom of a 1920s house, in a little apartment whose floors are warped.

We miss sweet tea, family, friends, and semi-sane/somewhat-kind drivers (in that order).


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