At the seventeenth hour and its thirteenth minute -
Waking up, though awful in an ache to rise from comfortable sleep with my cat, Marilyn, it is an abounding enjoyment to see another day. Still in youth, growing to "wake up" at life, we know enough now at how fleeting it has proven to be, and what myriad of gifts we are given by the moment it possesses.
Reminding myself of that surges my sensory in coming to its front and typing to you a cleaner outlook of where to write from. My day went well; working from 5:30am until 2:30pm, before sitting down for a time to transcribe my handwritten skeleton of a book into a typed first draft, which is such fun to involve with.
Reworking the journals of my life at a pivotal spot, where I walked from being a boy into more handling personal responsibility, accomplishes a thankfulness for how much God has done in taking something broken and restoring it to His image: outside myself.
Going home now, gathering to rest a hand on Marilyn's belly before coming back to work, tomorrow.
Love &c.,
Caleb
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