Oh Bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long

-traditional Irish song

It hit me as I find myself at Republic Coffee, the gravity of the situation that is before me. It is greater than as to whether or not I remain in Memphis. I truly enjoy the fellowship I have with close friends. It is good that I can sit in here at night and be immersed in a social subculture where I do not have a close relationship with all of the regulars, but we identify how our place is here and in some sort of "Cheers-ian" logic, it is right. Nowhere else in the world, not the Dunkin' Donuts Net café in Berlin or the Irish taverns in Belfast, can I find what I have here in Memphis. Though these things mean so much to me, as a whole, it is all up in the air. Though we all live lives that are this fragile, my situation gives an ever so clear representation of this attribute. When I see friends, I see now that this may be the very last time I see them on this side of eternity. When I go to the Loop tonight, it may be the last time I do. When I shoot pool with another friend, it may be the last time I scratch on the eight ball with him.

Yet, even though this is big, it is not the whole story. If it is not to be at the University of Memphis, then I shall leave my IT career behind in Memphis. I shall drive across the wide plains, a drive alone in the western reaches underneath the desert sun, to pursue the identity God intends for me to be. I do not know what that will entail.

My life is not my own to live. I have been given freedom; what shall I do with that freedom? It is a question that vexes my soul, whether I will find myself in Memphis in the weeks that follow, or if it is time for me to go. It is more than a question of location, rather, a question of life focus. My education and professional experience to this point has been focused on information technology. Will that change? My entire life is brought up to this single point in time.

I am brought back to the early hours of a morn. As the ocean mist glanced past my face, I stood alone on the portside deck of a ship crossing the ocean from Ireland to France. I did not know what life for me there would entail though I had been there before and as I wanted to scan the horizon, my eyes only searched the fog. I am there again, headed for a coast I do not see, turning to look back at that which is no longer.