!!!! . . . .

Too many news of deaths! And of young people, too! People younger than me. And one of them, someone I know...

News of accidents also! In a place where social security and so livelihood is not guaranteed.

Annoyed greatly that I was lost for words... Annoyed greatly that I was so disturbed that I couldn't think of what to say!!!

Very disturbed! VERY disturbed...

------
A few more years shall roll,
A few more seasons come,
And we shall be with those that rest
Asleep within the tomb;
Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that great day.
O wash me in Thy precious blood,
And take my sins away.

A few more struggles here,
A few more partings o’er,
A few more toils, a few more tears,
And we shall weep no more:
Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that bright day.
O wash me in Thy precious blood,
And take my sins away.

by Horatius Bonar, 1842