Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things...
Wednesday, 28 August 2013
Where There is No Way
My question these days is never “Why, God?” It’s most often “How?” (Joni Earickson Tada)
God will make a way where there is no way. Through our Red Seas, God makes roads. (Ann Voskamp, A Holy Experience)
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