In the Beginning...

Samuel Johnson wrote that the knowledge that one is to be hanged in the morning concentrates a man's mind wonderfully.

This is intended to me an account of one man's attempt to find, or maybe understand faith in the face of a life-threatening illness.

So far the conventional paths of faith haven't worked - and neither have some unconventional ones. But...

Somehow I know I'm not alone.

Somehow I know that I will deploy again, in some other life.

Is this enough?