“Blessed is the man….” Our class repeats Psalm 1. Rhythmically. As directed by the professor.
And years later the words return to my mind. With a beat.
His Word.
Faithful and true.

“Blessed is the man….” Our class repeats Psalm 1. Rhythmically. As directed by the professor.
And years later the words return to my mind. With a beat.
His Word.
Faithful and true.

Stop the nonstop.
Wait. Breathe.
Be still and know that He is God.
Not an easy sell to busy minds. Crowded calendars. Never-ending notifications.
But necessary.
Needful.

Soul exhaustion sets in. Unexpected.
Byproduct from observing those who scorn the cross. And reject the gospel.
Stone heart resistance catches my breath.
So, I pray.
