December 12
For years Peace and Poetry had been my highest priority, yet of late I’ve seemed to wander away from that same zeal. It’s not to say that the learning I’ve done in other areas has been in vain, only that I’ve been using these skills in the wrong ways perhaps. I need not forget that Peace and Poetry is a work of which I perceive a divine gift and I need not let it wither.
Truthfully, I’m not sure how I will make it profitable, but maybe that’s just not for me to decide. Perhaps if I were to figure something out in all my schemes I may foolishly suppose that I had done it of my own accord; as if my hands had wrought this work and it were not merely by the grace of something beyond me. I have a history of such pride.
Still now, even in this quiet place before the sun has awaken, I hear these words echo in my mind: Remember, therefore, thy first works and repent.
O how foolish are Man’s suppositions.
Yet I yield my mind in hope that my actions soon follow; forsaking all worry and worldliness, believing that God knows my needs, and to fulfill them is no hard thing.
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