My prayer tonight

Let me be right to trust in your grace, infinite wisdom and judgement. Give me the strength to be patient, knowing the right thing will happen but only at the right time. Give me the courage to neither look back nor look forward, but to move on, one firm step at a time.

Let me breathe, hope, dream and trust, as I have always done.

And above all, let me be utterly complacent, impractical and confident again, the way only a much loved and protected child can be. 

Taking Stock

 I have:

1. Weevils in the store cupboard. Weevils are not native to the UK, perfectly safe and not really repulsive. These particular ones are probably third generation weevils that were lovingly and unintentionally transported from India with Gobindobhog rice, which is the only rice that should be offered to a Bengali toddler. 

2. A long, empty evening sometimes. Either that, or work and more work. And on the days I have the one, I miss the other.

3. Journals and more journals. With blotted entries, happy entries, anxious entries and determined entries. 

4. A heart full of hope that refuses to die. 

Someday

1. I will stop noticing another month has gone by since we spoke.

2. I will learn to ride a bicycle.

3. I will smile when I see myself in the mirror.

4. I will wake up and jump out of bed like my son, ready for a busy day of playing and having fun (whatever is the point of life otherwise anyway)?

5. The sign I keep looking for will unquestionably hit me smack in the face as I walk right into it.