O Lord . . . we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we are all the work of thy hand. —Isaiah 64:8 “This is work,” I told myself one warm October afternoon while readying the yard for winter, so I stopped, stalked into the house and phoned the local library. “May I
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I see the light and his truth therein. I hear his voice in The whispering wind. I gaze upon the mountaintops and I see his majesty. I walk through the woods and feel his presence deep within myself. I stand in awe of the world in which I live, and in the stillness, I
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What Is… What is within … What is within the depths of my soul … What is …
What created what is.
What lies without … What lies in the serenity of a morning hike through the forest, along side a mountain stream, slowly and steadily cascading a bed of mountain stone. What is
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