Supposed to go daily. Say What? Preach on ‘naked’ be a start. Pretend-Jordan-Peterson, could try this? And yet there’s an anointing, if so disposed. See God comes to the knockers. The ones who come to, seek and, receive. Up to this.
There’s the immediacy of call and God arrives. Try: Go make or break through the difficult . . .
The first step in a journey ‘n all that (posting here. Planting…).
Don’t, and do – care what pleases ‘men’. In doing best-can and desiring God gets through. Less, self-conscious, more God...
Oh that? And more of.
Writing as I play Steffany and fam.
The little we… I have, give thanks for. Could . . .
Boring the readership I don’t have (ha ha/wonder why?) – in theory; Communing with the Holy One, get some word to unleash, mull and shape into a ‘my utmost’ and pop out with image in God glorifying sense.
Instead, go groaning at my ongoing fail-to and wants. Nag me. Those (#don’t check the stats, see if I’ve broken the . . .
Sanctuary describes the wilderness or desert. Blank space and time. Bible and pen.
Not otherways stimulated or intoxicated, gabbing with someone, or clickty click-ing a machine. (On screens and keys: The great separator of our times. Internet blues. Paradoxically alienating, in guise of being social. Dis-empowered is the . . .