You turn us back to dust, and say, "Turn back, you mortals." For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, or like a watch in the night. You sweep them away; they are like a dream, like grass that is renewed in the morning; in the morning it flourishes and is renewed; in the evening it fades and withers.—Psalm 90:3-6
We are like dreams, indeed.
The days are difficult. The family battles ills and sickness. I am fatigued.
North Korea plays with things it should not. We consider things we should not.
I am writing, though. I have been furiously working on some "assignments," which are keeping me busy between working and caring for the child. I haven't written like this in some time. It feels good. Slowly, the discipline returns. Now, I just need some more time to read and recharge. I need some time to dream.
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