I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers.

So thoughtlessly we sling on our destinies.

Once traveling, it's remarkable how quickly faith erodes. It starts to look like something else--ignorance, for example. Same thing happened to the Israelites. Sure it's weak, but sometimes you'd rather just have a map.

I prayed the Lord would sort (my prayers) out and answer as needed. Above all that he would hurry.

Let me say something about that word: miracle. For too long it's been used to characterize things or events that, though pleasant, are entirely normal. Peeping chicks at Easter time, spring generally, a clear sunrise after an overcast week--a miracle, people say, as if they've been educated from greeting cards.

We and the world, my children, will always be at war. Retreat is impossible. Arm yourselves.

Why is it our failures only show us more clearly the people we are failing?