I keep telling myself I must resist the temptation to pick up my diary again, although there are many more gaps than entries. I know I do it mostly to record my thoughts about my crazy husband, especially when he’s not there. He left at first light with the remaining apostles, and by the time I went outside the other two groups had gone too.
For some reason I have not only arranged and underwritten the funding of this latest escapade, but I’ve also said I will follow on and join them in Judea when they’ve had a chance to settle in. I don’t know why, but I really think something may come of it. Anyway, he’s my husband and it will do us both good to share some of our interests.
Thank goodness for Cyrus though. Not only is his practical attitude a perfect antidote to Jesus, but by taking a lease of the farm he’s provided me with the income I need to support the mission and I know he will actually improve the farm, not let it run to ruin as some tenants might. And he’s really good company and has a wicked sense of humour, and he knows how to make a woman feel safe at night.