Dear Diary, How are you? May peace [and the Life] be with you in the name of the Lord Christ Jesus.

from the writer: :-)
^_&

'Do not err, my beloved brethren,' wrote the apostle Paul, 'every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the father of lights, [the blessed Father, who is unseen in front of men, and who is in Heaven] with whom there is no variableness or changing or turning of shadow [nor excessively heavy yokes like those that teachers of the Law, and Pharisees, and hypocrites, lay down even on the very aged]'.

The Almighty has drawn evening across the earth, and the man ponders on himself and his G!d. He is a strange creation, he thinks, growing as he appears, and also aware of his on[-]going dis[-]appearance. For which part of his body is new, or his bones, or his flesh, that will prompt a new 'Thing' in the world? [paragraph break] And yes, the uncertainty of his existence threatens him, and waits in hiding to be acknowledged, on the heels of Recognition.

G[!]d brought people to me to[-]day, Diary, and some of the experience was pleasant, and some not so much. Three of my former high-school class[-]mates arrived at the ward, and G!d reminded me later of my vulnerability amidst serving the Christ, when [H]e brought my [']father['] to the ward (he is not a seeker of the Christ, nor is he seeking Christ, as far as I can tell.)

Do you speak Mandarin Chinese, or can you read it, at least?

from the writer: Translating... :-) For the love of G!D, and to the Most Merciful and Compassionate One be praise and the glory.

Although I do not count myself as having achieved perfection, as if I were a mountain or statue that has been molded and made perfect - oh, I do not count myself as such - and do not have all the powers that G!D has to work great deeds that shelter and transport Man, and nourish you and me, and do not know all the rigid instructions, of the world, that lays a yoke on-to one such that one turns to the direction where the sun sets, or plucks hair out from the nostrils of one - oh, I feel a load that is yoked upon me, instead, in the plentiful harvest of the fields that G!D has given me to tend, as if I ought to forge a bow or axe for myself out-side of the houses of happy people who put the proverbial cart before the horse, among these blurring definitions (of myself) that G!D has caused in a baptism of fire to a disobedient one such as myself, who seems doomed to be as clouds of dust and ash - what with the sword, that He has plunged into my soul, that is tormenting me greatly - I speak, in an effort to make my humanity heard, the following: if G!D has given me this worldly life as a comfort - a form of mercy from the Most Merciful and Compassionate One, or a brief respite - then what they have done to me falls short of what lets the light of the Most Merciful One - who created us, and is working great and mighty wonders in His immeasurable splendour and ways that are above my own - shine; they do not glorify their Maker, who is maker of all. I see room for the Lamb to do the will of the one who sent the Lamb. I see room for work that reconciles the below to the above. I see a gap to be filled. And how great the cry must be to He-who-provides, from where they are! Oh, to imagine the saltiness that remains on their hearts after their tears have dried! To borrow an expression from the one and only Teacher, if this happens in the green, what more in the dry!

Mysterious marks that look like armies or soldiers

Where G!D has sent me to is where wild people have the comfort of their shelters and women, and yet bake bread that leaves people half-hungry after they eat it. Not a joyous effort at all, are all these plucking of nostril-hairs, and turning to the direction where the sun sets. To the extent that they have turned the commandments of G!D to suit the desires of their hearts, they are all alike, regardless of their positions in society, gender identity, sexual identity, and the number of years that they have lived (or the number of wrinkles on their fore-head). And these are people who are made in the likeness of their Maker! How outrageous! I am greatly anxious and distressed for these people whom G!D offers His covenant to. My lowly heart is beset with with unexpressed emotions, as if my heart were in a sealed jar that is becoming a little too cramped, or as if the heat of summer had been poured into a drink that leaves me burning upon consumption. Oh, to whom shall I turn the ancient trees and mountains of my soul towards: G!D who clothes me, or those whom G!D has destroyed since long ago in plagues and floods and earthquakes that only those who are like Noah can be spared from? Who am I to model myself after? Or who am I to speak up for? Or rest my weary soul against? O! How I have spent nights sitting, by my lonesome, under the shifts and changes of the moon, wishing to be with You, enjoying the lush abundance of what G!D provides in his covenant with an oppressed, persecuted and doomed one such as myself! O, Jehovah!

oh, in the heat of the day, I have felt humiliation.

Dear Diary, Strangled and a-ware / I comb fingers in-to ash / as I dis-ap-pear

They fold the-ir hands / As they sit a-cross from me / How do I praise G!d

They came on a day / When it was cold and wind-less / They came suddenly

Tiles and small stock-piles / Bring on a cas-cade of fear / and the stop in me

They pushed some bis-cuit / and mix-ture to me at tea / They shan't break my fast!

On a ce-real crack / The rai-sin traced me as best / as a dry humplump can

The wild crane stands fast / A-mong te rol-ling grass field / As he jour-neys past

They are in a war / They are wield-ing seen weapons / But we, un-seen, win

They are in a war / They are seen wielding weapons / But we win, unseen

To make a dam burst / It is im-por-tant to risk / Flood-ing the ri-ver

How many swallows / Follow the si-lence as well / As a stag-nant pond?

How many swallows follow the selection of an old stagnant pond?

Day comes and night goes / Silk-i-ly e-nough on wings / of a red fea-ther

The bumblebee flies / Listening to the sounds of snorts / and grumbling hammers

from the writer: Lest they tramply on them, and then turn and attack you, do not set your pearls before swine.' (hur-hur-huk) (laughing) This is from Scriptures. The bumblebee flies / But tastes its own honey in / no such haste as Man

On the equator / of a rectangle that curls / up leaving I you, me

Isn't it curious? In between the lines the bird / Makes its victory

Dear Diary, How are you? May peace be with you in the name of the Lord Christ Jesus.

If I had a wing / I would not flap but / boldly cover me

from the writer: If G[!]d had a wing / would He use it to carry / The sound of the trees

Am I so vulnerable

from the writer: 'With gladness I boast about thorn in flesh (that was given to me to torment me, and to keep me from being proud - a messenger of the one who calls himself the Angel of Light), delight in weaknesses, and gladly boast about troubles, persecutions, oppression from people unknown and known to me, hardships, emotional turns and swoops and flights, tribulations, for the sake of the One with the Name (Christ).' (from Scriptures)

Am I so vulnerable that a[n] offer of a mixture is deceiving and tempting? Are you? They have familiarity with toxins. It's so embittering, disappointing and upsetting! Oh!

from the writer: 'Remorseful, huh. Regrets? Or not? For the sake of the Christ, huh. The Anointed One who calls himself the son of Man. "Three times I asked the Lord to remove it from me. What? The thing causing (me) pain. The thorn in flesh. He said: My grace is sufficient for you. Good enough. Enough for you, my grace is. My power is greatest in weakness. (as has been recorded in Scriptures) "'

On the day of the Sabbath, Shaddai settles into his [or His] resting place after his work of the Creation.

The awesome G!d is with you, Diary, and He will peso personally go ahead of you before them.

Oh, such mercy, as Pope Francis said: so much mercy, especially for confessors!

G!d sent four former high school

from the writer: (laughing) hur-hur-hur-hur. Four... form.. er... form-er... four.. form... four... for... It's too funny! :-D ^.^ (still laughing) ha- G!D is better comedian than I am :-D Thanks, Daddy :-) ^.^ >.<

G!d sent four former high school friends to me in the evening. When I looked on the gifts which one brought to me, I saw the words: 'When you only see one set of footprints in the sand, it is because I was carrying you.' That was awesome!

Scripture says that you ought to say, 'If this is G!d's will, we will live and also do this or that,' instead of boasting that tomorrow you will go to this or that city, live there for a few years and make a profit. This is a reminder from G!d to me about my limits and capabilities.

You are like an open book, Diary, and I trust G!d will involve you in his [or His] plan as he [or He] sees fit.

I received many blessings from the Father today. I am especially grateful as I had prayed to die, earlier.

G!d is telling me that there is more to me that he sees, other than what I see[,] and what they see. The word of G!d is a lamp unto thy path[,] and a light unto thy feet. (Psalms The context is the words I saw earlier in a [']Christian['] publication, on the trees and tents that G!d sees in a group of wanderers and ex-slaves.

They call for bed-time /
On a summer night in trop-ics /
What a silent moon!

From the writer: they call for bed-time / on a Sabbath that Lord rules / how patient Lord is!