Last year was tough and this year is shaping up to be about the same, while I can’t speak to your specific need or heart ache, I know that there is a higher place to tread than this hard world we live in. Much like the deer in this image, our spirits are gaunt, barely able to survive on the scarce grass and leaves left over from the long, dry, and hot summer. Only the strongest have survived and they are weakening. What hope is there under such an aggressive hand as that of our God? So often it seems pressed upon us, it seems to crush us, even to death. Where is hope, where is strength, where is the green grass for our souls to feast upon? Truly the feast does not lie in the valley, but upon the mountain, on the heights, but alas, for how shall we… read more
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