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Pray the garden into a sanctuary. . . . . .
On May 14, 2021, I posted Time’s Gleanings. It is a collection of paradigms as a brief respite in diets of heavy lessons. My last maxim of that post reads like this. . . ‘Like a dancer learning the discipline of a new score, we have rehearsed minute by minute to come to this place, …
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My reason. . . Because Of Love. . . . .
Explanation Caught in Part. . . In the beginning, in the place where I came from, there was a veil covering the foetus, the skin of man. I remember the place and the one who sent me here. He said it was because he loved me, and all those who would be part…
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Each One. . .Teach One. . .
. . . It always is a struggle between the correct thing and the right thing, no matter the subject or the action. The correct thing is not always comforting nor comfortable. And it generally is confrontational. Too much on our plate and we already want to hit delete. But whooooaaa!!! We…
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The Paris Incident. . . .
So now I write about the entries and how they are verified. When we moved from Michigan, we were aged with health problems. I tired quickly accounting for sometimes sparse writings. I now spend more time reading the journals and making notes amazed at what was accomplished. The puzzling habit still baffles. . .why was…
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All Who I Am . . . Our Coats Of Many Colors. . .
I write again of my coats of many colors. Because I love and care for those in my life and love life itself, I will repeat those of my posts I feel urgent about. Since I have memories and dreams of lives lived and have written of them, apologetically lacking times, I rightfully attest to…