My worldview has been wrecked on multiple occasions over the last year and a half. I almost wish that was an exaggeration, but it is not. Sometimes for the better, always for the unknown. Each time feels unprecedented, each revelation seemingly irreconcilable with life as I have known it. But that's the point. Each of those instances has been a point of no return. One cannot put bubbles back in the bottle after pouring out dish soap. We cannot shrink our minds or appetites for adventure back down to former size once God has blown them wide open with possibility. (Plus, it's much more fun to have bubbles everywhere.) Faith tastes like the gunpowder-residue air that comes with fireworks. There's a right good chance that things will explode, but it's going to be beautiful. Whenever it happens. However it happens. Why is it that as we're eagerly searching the skies, refraining from blinking as much as we are able, barely hanging on to the edge of our se