Tuesday, October 25, 2016 at 3:06 pm
O my Father—O Father of mine? One more set back. The Internet is cut again. The work is truncated. Without Internet, I cannot operate. Perhaps I won’t have to respond to that phrase for now. I am not in panic, only wondering what is the meaning of this set back? Perhaps it is time for me to take a break? Perhaps I should work on The Harvest Today? I wait on You…..and on and on I go for six long pages. Do you think that would magnetize anyone?
Tuesday, October 25, 2016 at 5:44 pm
O my Father—O Father of mine? You know everything happening in our lives. Ahmad had to go back to Aqaba. I have been waiting to hear from him the whole afternoon. I have no idea of how things have turned out for him. Even so, I refuse to give way to my imagination. I lift my voice to ask You for Ahmad’s deliverance of whatever situation he finds himself in.
No matter what kind of bad situation Your child can find himself in, You are in control of his life and my life. I refuse to doubt Your providence for us. You promised to do good for us. I wait on You without fear or doubt. Thanks for hearing and answering my plea for deliverance.
Wednesday, October 26, 2016 at 12:55 am
I will go back to bed. Cannot keep my eyes opened. I slept for quite a few hours. I woke up after 5 am. I been working on the heading for A Book Blog.
Wednesday, October 26, 2016 at 7:23 am
It seems to me, O my Father—O Father of mine? It seems to me I am watching the same panorama every single day of my existence. People coming & going. High voices talking about nothing of intrinsic value I am sure. Multitude of children sometimes rushing backpacks on their backs on to school. Sometimes, playing. Other times for the most furlong, aiming around like lost chickens in a prairie.
Me? Sometimes for the most I am intense in the task You have given unto me. Other times the bleak moment I am passing through gets the best of me. Momentarily I feel the blunt of the attack to my mind & body. Momentarily the pressure of isolation gets unbearable to the point of squirming in despair and poor old me. Then, it all passes by me until who knows when, the bleakness returns.