In fact, I even have a preview for you - an excerpt of what is to come, if you will.
'... Mark will stay there until the last medical supply is gone, the wheelchair is non-repairable, one of them becomes ill, or he simply cannot lift Stross any more.'
Damn it. That’s what makes Mark, Mark. That’s why Stross has room to dream. But why does it have to be so hard?
I know how it works. I know that Stross’ incessant, optimistic chatter about all things Boy Scouts will both grate on Mark and be the energy he needs to keep on going. It’s a paradoxical existence that only those who dare to love Stross can understand. I’m not talking the casual “I love ice cream; I love Stross” kind of love. I’m talking full out agape, I’ll-go-wherever-Stross’-journey-is-heading kind of love. It isn’t for the weak of heart. And this week the journey goes straight through Boy Scout Camp.
Agh! It's one of those times again. Can you tell? A working in, through, out and over all things seemingly insurmountable. A spiritual shaping that requires blocking out those who don't get it while laser focusing on One who does. And the happiest kid (excuse me) - 19-year-old man - wearing a Boy Scout uniform is the most capable of leading the way.
So that is what I will be what I blogging about this week but posting next week if all goes as planned - or probably even if it doesn't.
Dear God ... maybe if Mark can get Stross through a week of camp, our family can get Stross to Europe one day.
Woah ... Where did that come from? That was wayyy to big to think about right now.
I've gotta go sing some Broadway tunes or something.