Friday, 29 September 2006


I awoke from a dream. I was flying home. The wind wailed on my wings, and my strength was waning. And I knew where from rescue would come, but I scarcely called. Then the sun's rays fell upon me there. Raining, reigning...(and to the ground) a sobering descent. From the dust I'm sure my voice was heard on desolate heights, weeping (Jeremiah 3:21). Break up your fallow ground and do not sow among thorns (Jeremiah 4:3). You shall call me, "My Father", and not turn away from me (Jeremiah 3:19). As my Father has cared for me to this end (Matthew 10:29-31), how much more will He care for you?

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