Let there be light, and it rained fire from the clouds so that all could see the power of his whisper.
In the late morning of the early day, after the sun had properly risen in a blanket of purple luster, we were treated to a second show. Dark, bloated storm clouds pushed across the morning sky, foreshadowing the rain that was to come. But it seemed as if instead of being filled with water, these clouds were filled with volatile fuel. When the sun's rays shot upward from the horizon, tickling the belly of this beast, it incited a firestorm of glorious, radiant light that spread across the southern Arizona high desert skyline. The sky bourne inferno, as if seeking to escape its heavenly confines, soon fell in a hazy cascade to the still dormant ground, where it aroused the lethargic valley fields into golden splendor. It was one of the most spectacular phenomena I have ever encountered.
Each morning gives me the blessing of hope. Hope to be true to His word. Hope to share the passion of this life. Hope to pass on the love I have so freely been given. And hope to bear witness to the glory of this world. For that, I am blessed.
I remain His scribe
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