"Look! It's on fire!"

Coming back from church tonight, I noticed a flame in the Eastern sky. I pointed.

It flared brightly and dissipated into the velvet-dark violet drapes of passing stormclouds.

Gone.

Thoughts of Icarus.

Although I have been very careful over the last few years, I have for the last few days been convinced that my pain over the last few weeks are the first symptoms of what I believe to be RSI. Three weeks of finals stress --late nights writing constantly at uncomfortable tables and desks-- have done me in. If you have been reading the blog, you'll have noticed my early May complaints of pain.

I thought it was temporary, but the pain hasn't stopped.

I see a doctor tomorrow.

The future of this blog is uncertain. For sure, I will no longer be making daily posts. The value of daily writing goes down when every word potentially compounds the injury.

Thoughts of Icarus. Have I flown too recklessly high?

I looked up again, away from the dying flame of a setting sun, gazing into the East for an answer. Nothing.

Had it been a terrorist attack? A ball of flame from an airborne explosion? It had been like the flash of napalm in heaven itself.

I glanced to the east. It was back, an airborne blast in turbulent, brilliant orange.

But it was not a disaster.

It was the moon. A smiling face. Orange. Warm, on a spring evening. The moon was beautiful, and the veil of dark blue cloud-wisps waved over a glowing smile. Not a disaster. Just a reminder to notice an old friend.

I have one great confidence. I have lately been reading Ephesians. The same God who raised Christ from the dead, raised Him above all powers in the universe -- this is the God who has raised me to life in Him. That's what really counts. And He directs my path. He knows why this happened. Probably to teach me humility. But it's good to know that He isn't caught off-guard.

Thoughts of Icarus. Thoughts of eagles' wings.