....the Gift. The Gift is Endurance. Endurance is my soul What other characteristic would be proper for a soul, which has existed since before Abraham was.
All it takes is getting out of bed at a properly early hour tomorrow. As a matter of fact, I'm worried about that. Will I? Do I have the connection to the soul which will get me up?
How humiliating to realize I want to receive my soul's gift but may be unable to overcome my own sloth. And further, that I would justify my sloth; somehow saying that it was meant to be.
The only thing is to be silent. Still the thoughts. Wait. Drink the clear water as it flows from my heart. Love begotten; and in patience I run.
I sit in premonition. I ponder this prelude. I hope. I pray. I kneel. I bow my head. I realize I don't know God and don't have a clue and am powerless over the mish-mash of ego thoughts which are all I ever have.