All of life is made of threads. When these disparate threads are woven together, they make a thing of beauty. Thanks be to God!
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
My soul cries out
O God, my soul cries out for all who are filled with such pain, or anger, or both, that they cannot hear any words of love, see any hope out of the morass. Touch them with your holy grace, Jesus. Heal us with your power. Help us to find love and hope again.
1 comment:
I know the feeling, fair weaver. Yet the words of my departed mother, "This too shall pass," come to mind, as do, "Be still and know that I AM God."
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-- Athos
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