God has his hands on you.

Today Johnny Cash would've turned 78 years. I listened to his Fresh Air interview from 1997 this afternoon on the highway and the world around me seemed to slow down a bit. He spoke about his love for his father, his faith in God, with such nonchalance, such ease, as if it were a given, so easy. He had figured it out.


I came home and listened to Redemption Day on repeat, and watched the wind whip powder-light snow into whorls outside my window. I'm sad, but not too sad.

I'm sure he's just fine.