moving out of home

January 29, 2011

I’m home again. My room is nearly bare and I’m so tired. My bookshelves are near-empty.


Jesus, your promises still hold true. But am I allowed to not want them now, when sleep is still so- dangerous, and the daylight tries to eat me? God! What have I to do with being alive?


But yours are the living, the fullnesses. I suppose this is faith.

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