Living in the grey

Harvest Rain


The grey here is almost real.
I think that sometimes the grey creeps into my life too easily. Except that I love the grey places. I welcome the grey. I can go into the grey and find real beauty.
Yes there is a strong black and a white on both ends of life, but in between are so many levels of grey.

The grey of an inmate in prison who gets caught between administering bodies, caught with no hope and no help.
They grey of the elderly who long for some simple companionship who see a visit from a guy like me as a highlight to their week.
How about the grey of a loved one who's life became so bad that the only way out they saw was suicide, in spite of their 13 and 15 year old kids.
Or the grey of a young high school student struggling with their sexual identity.

Yes we go into the grey to help and to care for the ones who live there. We try to bring a bit of light and maybe a bit of hope to some grey stories.

That's what my last few weeks have been about, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
Into the Grey Havens.



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