update from sparkleup

writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/discernment.md

@@ -135,13 +135,19 @@ Perhaps the iniquities were within. Perhaps it were something about himself, wit
 
 *...I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His word I hope; my soul waits for the lord more than those who watch the morning, more than those who watch the morning.*
 
+And so he waited.
+
 Dee wished it were night. He wished he could once more sit in the quad and look up at the stars, or down at the grass and try to differentiate the shades of green, there in the dark where color eluded him, to find in that liminal state some sensation of the Lord.
 
 At least he could get get up from where he was and away from this edifice of concrete and glass. It was, he was promised, beautiful in its own way. But around behind the Abbey, toward the lake, a small path wound through the woods, and there, between the trees and beside the water, stood the statue of St. Kateri Tekakwitha, the only other coyote saint he'd ever come across, and the saint most venerated by his father.
 
 *...O Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem...*
 
-Dee was not the farmer his father was, had few enough ties to her patronage of ecology and environmentalism, but in her he saw at least a face like his own. In her, he saw something of a people he could belong to, though she was from far to the east of his home in Idaho --- for Saint John's would never truly be his home.
+Dee was not the farmer his father was, had few enough ties to her patronage of ecology and environmentalism, but in her he saw at least a face like his own. In her, he saw something of a people he could belong to, though she was from far to the east of his home in Idaho.
+
+Home.
+
+Home was back in Sawtooth, for Saint John's would never truly be his home, and that in itself was telling.
 
 *...It is He who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities.*