Jenny and I were deliberate in our naming of this blog. Both of us are a long way from having even a small shovel. We have spoons. Little ones. Just when I started to let that thought get the best of me, I remembered a movie my son was watching this weekend. It's a family favorite: The Shawshank Redemption.
If you haven't seen Shawshank, I'm about to spoil it for you, so read further at your own risk. It's the story of a successful banker wrongly convicted of killing his wife and sentenced to life in Shawshank, a prison run by a corrupt wardon. Life goes on for Andy for two decades until one morning when he is found to be missing from his cell. Behind a poster is the hole through which Andy escaped. It turns out he had been digging that hole for 20 years with a tiny rock hammer, one handful of debris at a time.
I kind of feel like Andy. The going will be slow, but at the end will be freedom, glorious freedom.
Jenny and I will get there. One spoonful at a time.