Do not remember the sins of my youth and my rebellious ways; according to your love remember me, for you, Lord, are good (Psalm 25.7).
7.00 am: Breakfast. 7.30 am: A communion. Recently, a number of politicians and celebrities have been publicly vilified and denounced, as crimes and misdemeanours that they committed decades earlier have come to light. The passing of time doesn’t, itself, expunge either culpability or guilt. Sin has no expiry date or statute of limitation. Even if we can bury our former, unconscionable, and inexcusable behaviour under the duvet of pitiable self-justification and self-induced amnesia, God still sees and holds us to account.
However, most of us, like the psalmist, remain deeply troubled by, if not the consequences, then, the memory of, our historic misdeeds. I’m sure the psalmist would have blushed to recount the reckless, lawless, self-indulgent, thoughtless, and hurtful thoughts and actions for which he was culpable as a young man. And, clearly, these failings still bothered him enough to talk them over with God in later life.
His prayer issued from remorse and repentance. God signalled his forgiving in the instant of forgetting. Had the psalmist asked God about those juvenile transgressions thereafter, he would received a reply to the effect: ‘What sins can you possibly be referring to?’
8.45 am: Off to School for a conference with Dr Heuser, at which we settled the MA essay marks for one of his modules. It poured down from door to door. It was a PreRaphaelite kinda day:
10.40 am: Back at homebase, I edged my chapter towards betterment. (Or, at least to the edge of betterment.) The writing (my approach to the topic) seems rather rudimentary to me, now. I’ve moved on in my thinking. The plot has thickened. But the text must remain as it was presented. It encapsulates a historic moment. Therefore, I must refine it without changing the content substantially.
2.20 pm: Following a small, brief lunch I continued edging. The wind had picked up. One of our second-year students emailed me for advice about writing engaging blogs. I responded:
My blog is cast in the mould of a daily diary. As such, each day presents events, encounters, opportunities, and tasks that I can draw upon as the basis of my writing. In essence, I write to understand who I am and what I should do. But I’m conscious that there is a readership who’re interested in what I do do. And so, I discuss my work as an artist, scholar, and teacher too. I would suggest that you begin by writing a 200-word account of some aspect of your work in progress, rather than try and include everything that’s taking place in your life right now. You might find it useful to read my blog article ‘My Diary (July 16, 2014–September 4, 2018)’.
5.40 pm: Preparations for a family celebration, and an evening together. My elder son made a cake:
10.45 am: I would need to pull a late one. Deadlines needed to be adhered to.