Friday, December 05, 2014


Father, I don't know why things happen in the way that they do.  I don't understand why I cry out for help and so many times it seems like nobody is there to hear me.  Sometimes I even wonder if you are real.

But when I sin, I hate it.  And in the quiet of the morning, when all is still, all I want to do is go to the edge of the river, lift up my hands, and worship You.  My soul is content.