Where Pavement Meets Gravel, Like a River He Found Me
I stopped at the rustic fencepost where pavement meets gravel, and meadow yields to pasture. Wind blew against my face as I tilted my gaze upward, heavenward … searching, longing for a touch from the Lord.
Billowing clouds bumped into one another as they moved across the mountain ridge. Some shone brightly, illuminated by the sun. Others had a dark cast to them. Heavy. Daunting. Resisting the light.
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