I’m sure the garden’s folks were not thrilled, but I was! What a fun time traipsing after the mama and her fawn as they gorged themselves of roses.
How can I make my ambition Your ambition?
Every now and then, unworldly inspiration and imagination penetrates
this sin-chained mind, this bone-bound spirit,
and I rejoice,
but just as quickly, flesh presses in—
pride presses in,
puffing me up, showing me what a wonderful thing I did for God.
Is there any hope to live a pure life,
a noble life,
when wriggling in skin and bone, a soul enslaved?
But to be free.
. . . I gave up coffee for Lent! –> Actually, that’s me in the morning always!