I stop reading and look at the worry stone (pictured above as it lies on top of the book cover) that I purchased during a short getaway in the mountains two years ago. It is smooth with an indentation that is perfect for me to rub my thumb as I hold it. The stone is kept by my bed. I pick it up whenever something bothers me and feel its smooth, polished surface as I ponder and often pray over whatever is on my mind. I hold it until it is no longer cool and is as warm as my fingers. By the time the stone becomes warm, I have become calmer.
I continue reading: ..."Beside me I have a turquoise journal, tooled leather, ...." I stop reading and stare at my turquoise journal, next to me on the reading table in my bedroom, with a simulated leather cover, as a sense of uncanniness falls upon me. I pick up my worry stone, and rub it as I contemplate the reason that I chose to read this book.
Yesterday morning, I visited a friend and saw the book on her kitchen counter. I was drawn to it, picked it up and read the back cover: "The Pull of the Moon" should be read by anyone who has ever (even for the slightest second) threatened to run away from home. ... It leaves the reader observing life with great hope and satisfaction." I chuckled and quipped, "I should read this one!" My friend told me that she was finished with it, and to take it to read.
The cover to my journal reads,
"Keep Calm and Pray On (Philippians 4)."