Mississippi Streets

There is an electricity that accompanies this town that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s bigger and older than I am. And like a window shopper, I’m only opportunistically peeking in on something that already has a legacy, or a soul.

The streets here are dark at night. It almost looks as if the sparse streetlights are intentionally set far apart as if to hide some sort of secret. As I jog through neighborhoods and next to front porches I smell the family dinner from earlier tonight and in some neon spots the introductory drink to welcome in the late hours. 

As I jog with no real course or destination in mind, I sense a freedom that’s not always been plentiful here. My course is charted with every coming step I take. For this brief moment I’m at the mercy of my decisions and the unknown. 

It's in these moments that I'm exactly who I am. Seen or unseen, known or unknown. It's an age-old question, but who are you when it's just you and the ground you walk on? The more I read scripture, the more I discover who God is and who I am... My deepest worship is only as vast as my solitary commitment.