Not a dime has yet surfaced of the restitution payment due from Robert Huckins for April. Time is flying by so fast that I forgot that today was Maundy Thursday, the day before Good Friday. I forgot that tomorrow is even Friday, let alone Good Friday.
Even with 72 degree's temperatures the wind has been pretty wicked all day, increasing in speed in the early evening. I suspect that White Sands is blowing through, perhaps even some of Arizona. The mountain peak is barely visible under the dust.
Fighting depression and panic has made me more than a little stressed. I ran to Walmart to pick up the tomato plants and promptly lost my truck keys, my mind fixed firmly on my home and barn and the myriad of problems I seem to be having trying to get it all put together.
A few days ago I wrote to Ted and explained that hope was fading, and I am truly scared. His response yesterday should have brought me back on track, but somehow it didn't.
But this evening I found myself thinking about the cross and the debt paid for me, and the knowledge that I do have an eternal home waiting - I just wish it would hurry up and get here.
I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined. In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts, Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link, The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think,What Man has made of Man. ~ William Wordsworth
