Several weeks ago I mentioned reading Cormac McCarthy's The Road. It was on everyone's Best Of list last year, so I decided to give it a chance. It was haunting and inspiring and has been one of those books that creeps into my mind at random times.
The story follows an unnamed man and his son roaming the American West after what is presumed to be a nuclear holocaust. It is about survival. It's also about fear and the primal drive we have to seek out fellow travelers. The two characters are heading to the coast. They don't really know why but the father suspects that perhaps the "good guys" will decided to gather near water. It's a stab in the dark, but they take it. The father constantly tells the son where they are heading, and the son constantly asks, "So we can find the other good guys?"
I'm laying in bed thinking about distance and this feeling within me that everything I do in my life is just the deliberate action of putting one foot in front of the other, trying my hardest to bridge the distance between me and those I belong with, and the One I belong to.