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From Tarshish with love

August 1, 2007
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dreamhouse.jpg I was discussing with my friend pk how drifting into nonsense can sometimes help me align with God’s sovereign benevolence as I feel the loving tug of his generously long tether.

The nonsense of the hour is armchair wanderlust. So far, I have eliminated Malta as a potential hometown, at least for the immediate time being.

I have been plumbing the shallows of demographic statistics in search of the perfect home town. A solid church, clean air, breath-purloining scenery, temperate climate, economic vibrancy, correct tax structure, low crime rate, and low cost of living are not asking so much of a place. I’m a savant at this, I can figure it out. I fix a town in my sights. I research a bit further and discover there is no veterinary internist for 45 miles.  Nix on Smallville #178.


My husband is not untouched by wanderlust. This brings the catch almost within reach.  But he views things less exigently than I do: he has temperance where I have urgency. This is a good thing.

Aside from being a jot to the compulsive side of inertial, there is little justification for this pastime. But some people play video games. I have never laid eyes on a real X-Box, but I can tell you the crime index for probably 14 small cities.

Yes: my habit confesses discontent with my circumstances; it testifies to my reliance on autonomous solution control.  A close observer might perceive that I am trying to jump ship and elude God’s service area and look to Best Places sites for remedies, where corresponding maladies are, in fact, absent.

I luxuriate in my long tether for a time, then put the data aside, digital tendonitis prodding me homeward from the search for home.



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