This is my MacBook Pro’s virgin blog entry. I like the sound the keyboard makes when I type. It reminds me of Shopgirl and NY52 typing away on their Macintosh’s. I haven’t been on my PC ever since I got this chap here. I should give him a name. A handsome name. My first days at Ignite Alliance have been nothing less than glorious. A brand new job, with lots of brand new people in my life. I should feel like I’m growing up. But the truth is, I feel younger. I feel like a blade of grass in the forest. Had a chat with TIsh after service yesterday. She said she is just numb to life. Going through it on autopilot mode. No ups or downs, nothing to be especially excited or depressed about. That’s a sad thing. I wanted to ask her, where is God in her life.. I didn’t get to. I wonder what she’d say. I wonder if she’d even care if God featured in her life. She also said that she no longer found certain things “right” or “wrong”, like the lines between black and white were being blurred. Funnily, I thought that too. What is so wrong about being wrong? And what’s so great about being right? I don’t know if this pattern of thinking is part of growing up. If it is, it’s a little scary. My sister just ended her long drawn relationship with her now ex-boyfriend. It was a second attempt that turned out to be futile. My mom asked me to dissuade her from breaking up. What am I to say? In this post modern world, I daren’t put my trust in a spoken word. “I will”? What’s to that? Not to give post modernism all the credit, I still think it’s highly over rated. Nevertheless, the value of the spoken word has dipped to its very lowest. In the past, you can give a man your word. And it counted. These days, words are but tools. Rationalisation has rudely taken the reins of the spoken word, people don’t say what they mean anymore. They just say what they want to appear to mean. I don’t know what this has got to do with my sister’s breakup. Neither am I saying she manipulated the entire situation with words. That’s totally not the case. I’m just saying, when you try to make sense of the world and how you fit into it, especially if God is in the picture, a lot of the picture plays out in words. But if I can’t trust words, what gives weight to my words? Why would and why should people listen to me, and give weight to my words? And if God were to “speak” to me, what weight should the words bear? Who would have thought growing up was this frustrating? I guess the question to all of us is, where is God in all of this? Where is God in growing up? Where is God in our thought lives? Where is God in our relationships? Where is God?