There was some kind of equipment failure in my area the last several days and I have been unable to get online. I have wondered if it was a sort of "discipline demonstration" from God. I certainly got more done and realized how much time I spend on the web. I am thinking a timer will have to be employed to keep me honest to my screen time. I had 58 messages this morning and I know that took a lot of time. The heat wave of last week seems to have ended. I lost a chicken and 2 baby bunnies to the heat. I took ice out every couple of hours and did my best to cool them down. I tried to get them to take off their coats, but that had them a bit concerned! I'm just glad I'm not as pregnant as Millie in this heat. Well I have been waiting to write this tidbit from The Genesee Diary for several days. It has stuck with me as I continue to slow down. "When I took a closer look at this I realized that I was caught in a web of strange paradoxes. While complaining about too many demands, I felt uneasy when none were made. While speaking about the burden of letter writing, an empty mailbox made me sad. While fretting about tiring lecture tours, I felt disappointed when there were no invitations. While speaking nostalgically about an empty desk, I feared the day on which that would come true. In short: while desiring to be alone, I was frightened of being left alone. The more I became aware of these paradoxes, the more I started to see how much I had indeed fallen in love with my own compulsions and illusions, and how much I needed to step back and wonder, "Is there a quiet stream underneath the fluctuating affirmations and rejections of my little world? Is there a still point where my life is anchored and from which I can reach out with hope and courage and confidence?" I too have the strange paradox of wanting to be left alone to quiet solitude and yet longing to hear a friendly voice on the phone, of wanting to be asked to speak at functions and yet wondering where I would find the time to write anything, of wanting more children but knowing I am tired keeping up with the ones I have, of desiring a garden but not having the committment level it requires, and so much more. The other tidbit was this: "During the 20 minutes we talked Elias told me practically everything I needed to hear. He told me how the changes in the often rough climate were good- "goo-o-o-d" he said- because they deepened his longing for God. As the storms made him wish for gentle winds, the clouds for sun, dryness for rains, so his heart learned to yearn for God and take nothing for granted. "What is so good about this part of the country," he said, "is that it makes you realize that all good things are gifts of God- when the sun is always shining you forget that it is God's gift, and you don't pay attention anymore." I had always thought of this looking for "something better" as an insult to God, but using it as a reminder of my desire for God, it seems a good thing.