Riding my bike to work in the shadowed light of the rising sun. A hawk perched on the basketball hoop backboard when I got there. Chapstick that makes my lips really soft. Comfortable, brown sandals. Watching my class play cards in the dirt pile that they've shaped into armchairs and an end table. Clouds above the trees that are pretending to be a snowy mountain range.
Every good and perfect gift is from above,coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,who does not change like shifting shadows.



1 comments:
· Light Bulbs for my feet is your word Lord. (Psalms) The Light is God.
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