Yours, oh LORD, are the times and the seasons. What is the life of man but a vapor, a mere puff of Your breath that you lend us for a season....May this mist of air that I call "life" not be lived in vain, Lord. May I be faithful......
As I walked the paths of this old battlefield yesterday afternoon, the granite monuments reminded me of lives lost and wounds earned by gallant soldiers of another time and age. An eagle with his broken wing seemed to guard this holy place. Though wounded and maimed, he held the standard of our nation high. And through almost two centuries, he has refused to release this banner in defeat. His faithfulness challenged my soul......
And as I saw all around me the emerging of the living Spring, I was reminded that it is the blood of the saints that waters the ground for new and lasting life. May my own small wounds be used for Your eternal kingdom, LORD. And may Your honor and glory and power fill our land.....
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