Spiral in control. We have spoken of the loveliness of long-suffering; of the sweats and heaves of love. We speak of things merely touched down below; a shadow of heavenly things to come. We sigh and bemoan unlikely burdens until finally we unleash a single claw. Through the claw, we see red. They flogged Him. I love to speak things of romance; of things sly and wise; of harmless good; of a God who calls Himself Jealous and Love. I'd sink into his heart and love Him more dear

Mysteries surround my life. Of the ones that occured in my early childhood, it is sufficient for me to know that trauma in the early life produces troubled kids. That is no secret, and there is no shame in that. We live in a sinful world. The sooner we come to that realization, the happier we will be on this side of eternity. I'm now realizing-- 2 weeks after my 28th birthday-- the true import of life. I've suffered enough headaches for a lifetime, but it was begging the Lor

Prayers whisper in the aroma of one tongue: "Dear Heavenly Father." That lovely word "Dear": He to Whom we address with reverence and awe. Is not He beyond the marvelous? Yet every prayer begins the same: "Lord, please..." -- amongst these: "Forgive me," "Bless me," "Cleanse me." There is no joy in sin. Herein lies the record of the sinner's plea: "Forgive me," "I'm sorry," "Thank You." Every day. The sinner's prayer is, "Lord, give me temperance," and so henceforth