Perhaps you’ve noticed the blog’s been a little quieter than usual. I’ve been enjoying a series of delightful days, on vacation at last. Everything in me feels like I’ve finally set down an overstuffed backpack.

But I’m not what you would consider great at vacation. Africa has stained itself on the inner walls of my cranium. Ominous lines from parables ricochet in my head about a rich man “in [his] lifetime receiving good things” (Luke 16:25), then spending his eternity in anguish. Guilt and I have always had a tight-knit relationship, while I have a complicated, historically unhealthy relationship with desire and pleasure. In college, I was literally wasting away by my ability to suppress my desire for food.

So there’s that.