revisited

(an exerpt from a prevous posting that fits again)

 

"Human strength and human greatness spring not from life’s sunny side. Hero’s must be more than driftwood floating on a waveless tide."    ~A.B. Simpson

 

Right now I am tossed in the sea. I can be nothing more than me. And yet people around me expect me, expound me and I am so short I cannot even see up on to their table of perfection. When I traveled, when it was just God and I, every thing I could take in and stand. I cannot explain the joy of being held with in the Creators hand every move, every sound, guided harmonic, and I was untouched by any thing, because I could feel Him always. He loves to take care of us. And now trying to take care of myself, to live the normal life, I cannot find Him. I’m here; I’m here, GOD CAN YOU HEAR ME? I’m here. Curled up in a ball under their table of perfection. Can you send your angels to minister to my soul, peace courage wisdom hope I will be free again. Patience (but not through trial please). Something, whatever you see fit. Looking back I know I will see this is just a really big wave, and my boat is fine. I feel like the disciples yelling “help us” Lord and all along they were safe just untrusting. But still i’m here now. I hope God reads this.

 

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