Authentic Living

Houses surround and peer in at us with their window lit eyes, lidless and clear. They look in through our open walls and try to see into our hearts. These homes wonder if our gathering will look anything like the bonds that are formed within their walls. As I sit here I, myself, wonder the same.

What kind of family are we? wWhat type of people have we become?

On the last night of camp how will our lives carry on?

It is so easy to know what you want, but so hard to live our lives surrounding it. We live here in eternal bonds that seem unbreakable, currently, but what will come when these sounds die down and we lose proximity? Will we still exist in these eternal and unbreakable bonds? Will we astonish the houses that surround and match the community that exists inside? Will we truly be real and authentic?

As I watch the houses watching us I sure hope that we can!

*I wrote this a year ago on the last day of camp and find it very fitting to reflect on now that camp has concluded for this year as well* 

What is the hardest part of authentic living?


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About Jeremiah Dowling

I write poetry and take crazy pictures in an Orange Chair all over the United States while reading amazing books.

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