I am my readership and these words, actions of faith.
Fruit of failure. How everything God would've helped me toward, over decades, spurned, wasted – never even got close to rejecting, too busy messing up, barely perceiving the offers. Fooled by the things of this world again and again and…
“What a waste” – not quite the jolly Ian Dury . . .
Remember my first PAS post. Went on, something about; Best I can manage is grasping at a line like a mantra. There's no sense of nout. Blank, tired and empty. Yet...
This morn; He Who Dwells is the bumbling get-up repeater. Until I get-out of bed: “Why don't you…”/'Reasons to be cheerful, part 3'.
Well 'up' yet, least . . .
KISS keep it short sweet. Or – '...simple stupid'. Not long to tap, what to write? Graphics come easy but words? One thing that matters (to me at least and thinking, might to God and you)? This whole caboodle feels one self-indulgent concern. Wanna backtrack into silence before get going. “So here me go again...” Writing about . . .
Snug in and out two minutes #this# discussion, which I'd like to get to, for a next TS post.
(#this# discussion was on DAHBOO7 broadcast/written to him to help me re-find but looks like might be gone??)
Come to appreciate; 1. How people discuss, more than pumping my favoured lines and spine. 2. That I don't, maybe at all, agree but – . . .
What to write?: What I think God is saying BECAUSE... God speaks – and this, our bread of life.
The upside of failure and obscurity is ease not to care who reads what. A voice in the wilderness: In the wilderness. Prayer is like this. Unless, with someone or others, carries little sense of applause. Perhaps the closest, is post- writing or . . .
Family health issues requires the necessary prayerful measures: Spend my 'early-ups' trying to get to grips with God. Discipline established, hope to write again but for now, another break. God willing once back on, aim to write and edit more. Tend to write and publish all in a one and this, some of the why so-garbled. Having this . . .