23 September 1999
"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all." - Emily Dickinson
I am writing here in H.K. I need not relate the fact that the writing urge has been quite absent for some time. (Last entry: 17 May!) I know this is sad. Only in the past few weeks have I begun to 'wake up' in a sense. I wonder if God has allowed all the calamity of recent days (referring to the brick incident) to catch my attention. What is it that I feel that I cannot write? That were I to write the things churning in me, my weak and inadequate verbiage would lessen the depth of my thoughts and prayers...
I feel my heart is in God's grip. Even though I am not particularly discouraged or burdened, or overjoyed, I feel His love, peace and joy immensely. I feel my faith is affirmed. Surely, knowing God is like a fire that burns within the soul - so strong and yet mysterious is He. I come alive to think He is real, He does indeed love me, and He is lovely to me.
Though I may spend my days alone in this world, I pray I may never forget the One Who is my Eternal Saviour, Redeemer, Father and Friend. What is my love compared to His? My gratitude to Him can never be enough.
25 September 1999
I think it quite odd that I have chosen to write you in my journal, especially as it means you'll never read it. But I am often writing letters in my head to people, whether people I know well, or people I've just met - as in your case.
I know we've only just met - and I am rather aloof at this point. (Editor's note: that was my habit at the time - single men were just scary to me). But what my first impressions tell me is that we could be friends. Friendships with the male gender can be so complicated. But perhaps this once I'll put those concerns aside and waylay my fears, for I think we could be friends, though only in a limited sense, for you are in China, and I in Hong Kong and at that, not even permanently.
Anyways, I think I'll stop here before I get too in-depth over trivial matters. Please excuse my bluntness - it is an ongoing bad habit.
(Of course he never read this until many years after we were married!)