This week I turned thirty one and I'm cool with that. No, I have not written a literary masterpiece or saved the world from war and hunger. Still, I'm blessed to be healthy, employed, creative, but above all, loved. I think the realization of the importance of  meaningful relationships was God's gift to me at the start of my thirty second year of life. I have a beautiful wife who loves me and with whom I am in love; I come from a family that has an increasingly rare mix of stability, support, faith and integrity; I have friends and neighbors who make time to hang out with me, often on short notice, despite their busy schedules. All this through God's loving grace. Even if I could explain such a wonderful life apart from my faith, I wouldn't want to. 

   Looking ahead a year thirty two, I actually see a clear path towards a clear goal. I want an MFA so that I can tell the collection of stories I've hunted and gathered over three decades. Meanwhile, I'll continue to write from 5 p.m. to midnight on weekdays and voraciously on weekends. I also have the advantage of having a multi-media job that requires writing for the eye, the ear, the young, the old, etc. So, I'll use iron to sharpen iron, so to speak, and somewhere in between find breath and space enough to pen, type write and post moments of the upcoming days in year thirty two.