Monday, June 30, 2008

Typical Monday:


...I wake, and, lo! I have forgot,
And drifted out upon an ebbing sea!
My soul that was at rest now resteth not,
For I am with myself and not with thee;
Truth seems a blind moon in a glaring morn,
Where nothing is but sick-heart vanity...

[George Mcdonald: "Diary of an Old Soul"]

After the transcendance of worship, how quickly my heart turns away.


No comments:

To Mom

Who would have thought, when years had passed,  and you had left this world for good, I'd find such comfort remembering the way it felt ...