My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
An Awareness of the Promise
The Promised Land is less predictable. It may change and in its lushness there can be a settling, a lulling of the soul, so that the enthusiasm of first believing might become dulled. But the desert, for all its barren harshness, stays constant. It offers no distraction and so there can be an awareness again of the promise.
Labels:
awareness,
distractions,
enthusiasm,
expectations,
scripture
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