Bind my wandering heart to Thee. Prone to wander,
Lord, I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love; here's my heart, O
take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above. Those words - maybe in
particular that phrase from "Come, Thou Font Font of Every Blessing" -
seems to reconcile with something that moves in me, a mirror, perhaps a
reflection of the spiritual, and also the life searcher, the voyager.
Sometime back in California, I happened upon a Monica Denevan exhibition, part of her series in Burma. There was one photograph in particular that spoke to me. It imbued a sense of being on a journey, unencumbered by possessions, and I identified with wanting that kind of theme. I thought, how simple, to live that kind of life - in contrast to the frenetic materialism we have in America. A young man, perhaps with a family, out on the sea, harvesting what he can. A simple life. I kept it as I left the exhibition. It's with me today, to remind me, that I do have the heart of a wanderer. May God guide the journey, and steer the boat.
Sometime back in California, I happened upon a Monica Denevan exhibition, part of her series in Burma. There was one photograph in particular that spoke to me. It imbued a sense of being on a journey, unencumbered by possessions, and I identified with wanting that kind of theme. I thought, how simple, to live that kind of life - in contrast to the frenetic materialism we have in America. A young man, perhaps with a family, out on the sea, harvesting what he can. A simple life. I kept it as I left the exhibition. It's with me today, to remind me, that I do have the heart of a wanderer. May God guide the journey, and steer the boat.