No Rest for the Weary
I had accomplished a King�s ransom on Saturday. I rose early and didn�t stop until I could no longer proceed. At the end of the day, what was the measure of my activity? What did I have to show, for what I had done? A �To Do� list, all of whose tasks had been lined through. I had given my verbal promise to be with Soren and the children, I didn�t make it. As I lay my weary body, in my bed, my mind spoke to my heart. Its words were soft and few. I felt like a heel. I broke my promise. I failed them.
What does a woman possess when she breaks the only thing she does possess?
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