I Will Fear No Evil, But It Sure Does Whisper Loudly

Lord, You are my God. You hide me beneath the shadow of Your wing and I am safe. I will fear no evil, but it sure does whisper loudly calling my name, taunting me, causing me to tremble. Sometimes it’s hard to stand strong.

You, Lord, are my refuge and my fortress. Your truth is my shield and buckler, and in Your Name, I have placed my trust. Though a thousand fall at my side, and ten thousand fall at my right hand, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. You have given Your angels charge over me to keep me in all my ways.

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So Great a Cloud of Witnesses Found in the Birdsong

I woke early this morning. Grabbing a cup of coffee, I wandered to the couch, sat curled up on the end, and enjoyed a gentle refreshing breeze coming through the open window. The light of dawn burst through the dark of night as birdsong broke through the silence. So great a cloud of witnesses there in the breaking of dawn.

Birds.

None were visible, but all were heard.

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A Shadow of Remembrance is Hidden, but Not from God

Sweat dripped profusely after two hours of weeding my flower gardens. I left nothing hidden, not a shadow of remembrance from those despicable weeds. Nothing. I wiped my brow with a cold cloth and plopped onto my porch swing. A gentle breeze passed by. A glass of ice-cold water quenched my thirst.

But my body wasn’t the only thing thirsty. So was my spirit. It had been a long while since I had lapped with abandon at the river of Living Water.

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God, You are the Burden-Bearer, Not the Burden-Giver

Lord, You are high and lifted up, You are Lord over all the earth! You are mighty, filled with wonder and power and yet You are tender towards Your children You are the Burden-Bearer, not the Burden-Giver.

My burdens are great. Many I know are heavy-laden with burdens of the heart and by the struggles this fallen world creates.

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Through the Path of Pain We Encounter God

“George Matheson, the well-known blind preacher of Scotland once said, ‘My dear God, I have never thanked You for my thorns. I have thanked You a thousand times for my roses but not once for my thorns. I have always looked forward to the place where I will be rewarded for my cross, but I have never thought of my cross as a present glory itself. ‘Teach me, O Lord, to glory in my cross. Teach me the value of my thorns. Show me how I have climbed to You through the path of pain. Show me it is through my tears I have seen my rainbow.’” *

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