Sometimes I wake, and lo, I have forgot,
And drifted out upon an ebbing sea!
My soul that was at rest now resteth not,
For I am with myself and not with thee;
Truth seems a blind moon in a glaring morn,
Where nothing is but sick-heart vanity.
Diary of an Old Soul
I have spent too much time this week on other things. Good things, but forgetting
to spend time with the Giver of those good things.
I wonder if I will ever get to the place where I do not wander so?
Grace and Peace