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May 3, 2007
it is a lonely road, this walking with God
dry and dusty, like a desert
it is rare for rain to fall
the sand scalding against my feet
the promised Companion so silent as to be not present
where my father’s trod a verdant glade
naught but scorching sun I see
where the enthusiasm, where the joy?
why is my road so far removed from theirs?
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Each New Day A Miracle
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