My dear one,
It's my favorite time of year. I love the bright blue skies of October, the leaden skies of November. I love the colors, smell, and crunch of the leaves. I love a steaming mug of spiced cider in my hands and a warm sweater wrapped around me.
Monday saw the deadline of a big project. I turned in my 427-page digital portfolio. Crossing my fingers that it passes the approval of my dean and the academic committee that is tasked with reviewing these kind of things. Approval would mean an advancement in rank and a pay increase. Someone asked me the other day if I was basking in my title of "Dr." Heavens, no! I still don't like using it. Still afraid it might keep you away from me, perhaps...
I am still fighting the battle for contentment in my singleness. Though my heart continues to whisper hope concerning one acquaintance, my head is becoming more insistent in its warnings of No.
Why is it that men are generally either spineless or self-important? (And sometimes both!) I acknowledge the fact that there are outliers -- those rare instances of a gentleman who is walking with the Lord and humbly serving those around him -- and I ask the Lord in such weak faith whether I could ever be worthy of such a one. Worthy of you, my dear one.
O let my trembling soul be still,
While darkness veils this mortal eye,
And wait Thy wise and holy will,
Though wrapped in fears and mystery:
I cannot, Lord, Thy purpose see;
Yet all is well since ruled by Thee!
When, mounted on Thy clouded car,
Thou send’st Thy darker spirits down,
I can discern Thy light afar,
Thy light sweet beaming through their frown;
And, should I faint a moment, then
I think of Thee, and smile again.
So, trusting in Thy love, I tread
The narrow path of duty on;
What though some cherished joys are fled?
What though some flattering dreams are gone?
Yet purer, nobler joys remain,
And peace is won through conquered pain.
(John Bowring)
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Taken from a moonroof before the camera could properly focus,
but I'm liking the impressionistic effect... |
