Fun afternoon, and wonderful dinner Jess made. Emma as usual stole the show–perpetual motion. It’s 6:35, Barb and Chris asleep, dark outside. I am grateful for what Sunday symbolizes.
To the Holy One
You are immaculately pure:
In You there is nothing impure.
Faultless, spotless, flawless, stainless—
In Your chaste beams, I shall fluoresce.
From Your light, help me not obscure,
And twist my will from No to Yes.