QUICKSAND.

Offline message from Kathryn:
Poor Valerie. I know she never àsked to be hit by thát drunk driver in Ohio.
I wish there was something tangible that I could do for her, but my own life is like quicksand.
No money coming in; poor health; depression, etc.
These are NOT wrong confessions, but a fàct harsh reàlities of life.

Last night, I said "Only Jesus cares if we live or die. Others don't." And I wàs right.
No Proper Help was offered , , which somewhat reminds me of New Orleans.
But when the looking back over the years, I guess I 've done pretty well to háve survived...considering åll the wretched ànd uncomfortable circumstances which were stacking up against me. Anyone else with a more feeble spirit, would've probably commited suìcíde!

Today, I can't even dàre not open my mouth to complain unto God that I have only coins in the wallet...lest I become like those who complained ábout cucumbers; onions; garlic; leeks; melons and free fish ín Numbers chapter eleven.
Well, I know in my heart, that life has become like quicksand.
The møre I struggle;
the more I sink.

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