Tuesday, January 22, 2013. My bag of stones are nearly empty. Which I used to cast at men. For I have seen Infinite mercy. Mostly shown, to my own sin. Lesser are my demands on others. Fewer things can trouble my heart. For I have learnt to lean on Mercy. On His strength, where I am faint. Ministry, is no more my doing,. But simply abiding in Him. Less is the stress of unfulfilled longings.

A dark world aches for a splash of the sun. There is an island fantasy. When recession stops, inflation ceases. Our mortgage is paid; our pay increases. Where every piece of mail is from a friend. Where the children are sweet and already grown. Where all the other nations can go it alone. Where we all retire at forty-one. Playing backgammon in the island sun.

Ma vie mé ami tout se que jaime.