I can’t believe the light sentence Eunice Spry got off with for the unspeakable torture she rendered to the children in her care. Sickening and sad. I can’t believe it wasn’t life or even the death penalty for her. So sad that these children may still be terrorized by the mom that was supposed to love and care for them. Sick, sick, just sick. How can she even be considered human? Death would have been easier to the children rather than what she put them through… 
Deliver Me From Evil
Great read, utterly sad and heart wrenching to think children can be made to live like this. So sad.
30 Days To Taming Your Tongue
Great read was really enlightening.
Lent 28 – Lonely and alone
“The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: “Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.” And he went outside and wept bitterly. The men who were guarding Jesus began mocking and beating him.”
(Luke 22:61-63)
Reflection:
Many years ago a friend of mine was the Rector of a church in an area that was caught up in the national violence and political unrest. There was a great stand-off between the young people of the area and the police. For a considerable time it seemed that the people would charge the police lines, resulting in bloodshed and the possibility of civil war. He was trapped with his family within his house and not allowed outside. I asked him afterwards what would have made a difference to them. His reply was that, although he knew that the…
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CONFESSIONS OF A WIDOWED VIRGIN
…and I’d stay here
waiting and wanting
wishing the sky was you
and the stars were your eyes
I could smell you in the wind
and see your cocky smile in trees
oh! don’t be flattered, I’m only joking
psychotic; that’s what you made me
a love bird with no wings to fly
now I brood over pain in basilicas
anticipating the smiles that elope me
too far from the farthest sorcerer
the game of love, is what I dread the most
for if love ever had a sting so evil to bear
I was the unfortunate victim
of bars and rods, and bolts and hinges
I curse the day I set my eyes on that thing
the thing they call love, I call it nonsense
this is how I now sit to mourn and tell
how I became the widowed virgin of love
By Ruth Brodrick. Copyright 2015
Momentary Lapse Of Sanity 