Behold, You see me clearly, Thou art fair, I am other. My love, you gave that gift to me, Behold, I see dimly. Thou art fair, I am redeemed, Thou hast doves’ eyes, my eyes are green.
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 comfortsContinue reading “Law #18”