My husband and son are on their way back from Canada tonight. They called when they came out of the back country, and it was oh so sweet to hear their voices. I'm thinking tonight about what we gain when we go to Canada, or Maine, or even the green, green hills of Southern Indiana. (John Mellencamp, where are you about now?)

When we hike for a few hours, I lose everything that presses on me. Papers to grade, relationships to fix, kid conflicts; they all fall away. For once everything is as it should be. I'm walking, it's breezey, my mind opens up wide to the moment. Anymore, hiking is the only time I am open enough to feel that elusive longing, that "joy" C.S. Lewis talks about, that longing for God. And it, too, is oh so sweet. The sweetness is in the longing itself. Longing for connection.

The thing is, I know I'm connected already. But I sure can't find it, or feel it most days. Can you?

Well then, the solution is to get my little self outside more, right? I'll answer myself. Right.