Entry: Coming home Jun 1, 2004

Back from London, back home again in this drought-stricken autumn, my mind incongruously filled with images of green parks and lush water gardens and the sleek grey Thames. Reading Colm Tóibín’s The Master on Henry James in Kensington and Rye. Thinking about faith and my local church – still puzzling over those difficult few days of depression in London, no obvious cause. An experience of praying into absence, as if God has turned His face away from me. Realising this was probably my turning away, but not able to get clarity or mov forward.


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