I think now I am over the shock of losing our gallery come May 2003. That eerily familiar sound of getting peed upon came and went. Rich guys need more money, I guess.........buildings must come down- even ugly ones being re-vamped for the overall purpose of serving others. But that happens a lot 'round here in these parts....big guy vs. little guy in an economic game of crash up derby except the little guy doesn't get to use a car. But really, I'm over it.

I am so over it that I am starting to believe that maybe our vision was too small. But God help me not to think that I am the one to trek up the mountain, get the vision and come back down to the commoners, saying, "lookie here." Someone else has got to see it, right? When Buzz the Coffee Shop folded late this summer, the marginalization monolith that is corporate America chalked up another casualty. That was about the same time we were getting a whiff of our destiny with the gallery. Now, the tangential masses that called Buzz "home" are once again out in the cold, noses pressed up against the picture windows of the establishment. Only the spectre of what was and what could be haunts the innards of that old building. I gaze through dirty windows there rather wistfully asking God what's going on here.

You know, I don't know if God has a plan for that space, with our people and if it involves Veritas. I just don't know yet. But if money were no object..................

On we go on looking for a physical location wherein we can take root. Here now, I dispense with baby faith and ask God for the goods.........to go for broke. I am weary of safe ministry. I am starting to loathe the glassy harbor in which I am moored while a storm rages at sea. For the love of God, isn't this boat seaworthy?