In the desert of tossed ideas. A gasp, cough or frozen throat is often good. For in what manner do I measure the quality of those thoughts sponsored in narrow or vapid thinking? Though I am made in their image. A presumption of eloquence, depth or application especially having seen the vat of pride within, is tempting calamity.

It is time to move on from the attempt at being good enough for any of you. That is a fool’s errand a quest without destination a road dry, sans forage or fodder. May God send me those who appreciate my hue, virtue and brand of elementary humor. For to be in debt to someone expecting eventual love is fertilizer without ground to plant.

Control is of the Lord. Navigation is of the Spirit. Right, prudent and wise are of the Father. None of this was my creation only my doing to match or hatch the impacts of my intention, hope and failures. There never was any expectation of measuring up to a set of metrics born in the damaged hearts and minds of men set out on a broad, dusty trail.

Have I failed. I hope not and hold fast to the Promises of Revelation at meeting. Treasures stored up by faith are equally anticipated by that same faith to which they were gathered. What awaits is greater than the inputs and outputs of a world that looks to metaphysics and concrete fulfillment. There are no pleasures but joy through Promise and kids awaiting gifts.