In a rare moment of accurate time management, I woke up early enough to float around dreamily, and get to work ten minutes early. I even managed to read the Bible like a good Christian, and pray! Then was the slow, unpublicised funeral of the leftover cinnamon and raisin bagels. As they’ve been taken of the menu, any remaining are being slowly consumed behind the scenes; sorrowful and scrumptious simultaneously.
After tea, I slotted in a lonely rave before ascending to my bedroom to rest in glory. In my head, I always think that long times of worship must equal the best encounters. God doesn’t need ages, but we do, and he makes himself patient for us.