Law #18

Open doors hang waiting,

Thou hast clouded my approach.

Mine eyes strain for a glimpse of future purpose,

That I may serve well in seasoned years.

May the wind of your Spirit blow,

Behold now, the vistas change.

Wondrous things I see from my low perch,

Out of reach, yet so near.

Thy law comforts the journey.

Published by David B. Smith

Author, podcaster, pastor, and Big Pappa to my grandchildren.

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