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.