Well we're back. We've done it. Our first set of fly dates out to the west coast and up to the gorges in Washington and the mounts in Oregon and all I can say is, flying is starting to get old.

I never thought I'd say that. I mean, when I was a kid, at my kindergarden graduation, I stood in front of all my fellow achievers and their parents and told them all that the thing I wanted most in life was to be a pilot. At least that's what I thought I said. Turns out I was struggling to say my "L's" at that point in my childhood development and it actually came out, "when I grow up, I want to be a pirate." Everybody started cracking up and argghh, did I feel foolish. But the point is, I've wanted to fly a plane and be in the air since I was a wee developing lad and now that I'm flying all over the place it turns out I'm getting just as bored in a plane as I do in the car and now peanuts are becoming less and less appetizing. It stinks how the things we are amazed by the most can grow old. I'm trying to allow them to be just as amazing as the day before, but it doesn't feel like it's an option sometimes. Luckily, I have people like Jeff and Mike travelling along with me that still get just as excited about burritos as the first time they had that exciting chipotle experience. Or someone like Kelly that takes a bite out of some blackberry cobbler and periodically goes into convulsions out of sheer blissful enjoyment. And then there's jason, who bubbles with excitement when anything breaks as he begins drawing up several different plans on how to fix it.

I watched a DVD the other day by an amazing folk musician named David Wilcox. On it, he covered a song by a guy named Peter Mayer. The song is called "Holy Now" and the lyrics are below. I'm trying to allow them to ring true as often as possible, and somehow let everything be a miracle to my twenty something eyes.

When I was a boy, each week
On Sunday, we would go to church
And pay attention to the priest
He would read the holy word
And consecrate the holy bread
And everyone would kneel and bow
Today the only difference is
Everything is holy now
Everything, everything
Everything is holy now

When I was in Sunday school
We would learn about the time
Moses split the sea in two
Jesus made the water wine
And I remember feeling sad
That miracles don’t happen still
But now I can’t keep track
‘Cause everything’s a miracle
Everything, Everything
Everything’s a miracle

Wine from water is not so small
But an even better magic trick
Is that anything is here at all
So the challenging thing becomes
Not to look for miracles
But finding where there isn’t one

When holy water was rare at best
It barely wet my fingertips
But now I have to hold my breath
Like I’m swimming in a sea of it
It used to be a world half there
Heaven’s second rate hand-me-down
But I walk it with a reverent air
‘Cause everything is holy now
Everything, everything
Everything is holy now

Read a questioning child’s face
And say it’s not a testament
That’d be very hard to say
See another new morning come
And say it’s not a sacrament
I tell you that it can’t be done

This morning, outside I stood
And saw a little red-winged bird
Shining like a burning bush
Singing like a scripture verse
It made me want to bow my head
I remember when church let out
How things have changed since then
Everything is holy now
It used to be a world half-there
Heaven’s second rate hand-me-down
But I walk it with a reverent air
‘Cause everything is holy now