I went to the art gallery today. I haven't been there in years, and I've been promising myself that I would go for some months, but it is one of those things that I just haven't seemed to be able to fit in. When I had the time it wasn't open and when it was open, it didn't fit into my schedule. I don't pretend to appreciate the more modern specimens, they seem to lack depth, skill and effort in a lot of cases for me, but the classics transport me to a world of wonderment. They were truly magnificent.
There came a day when I realised I'd been treading water for months and if I didn't find some direction and meaning for my life soon then depression would once again take over. I prayed fervently for some help and direction and the response was anything but what I had expected. I realised through a very sacred experience that this life is an amazing gift, and it was my task to show God what I was willing to do with His gift, rather than wait for Him to tell me what to do.