His voice, He thundered.
And, only you knew what you had to do.
The other voices called you back.
The walls closed in. They shook. The Holy One lifted you. With stiff fingers, He pried you out.
You rolled the stones in your pocket.
God Almighty, blew Holy winds.
The voices, timbered through the winds, falling dead branches.
A wild night. Dark roads of broken limbs. Rolling boulders.
He led. He leads.
Little by little the voices pale.
Stars burn through the veils of clouds, and you hear the Voice. Ancient. Certain.
And, known, as you are known. “Come”, He says.
His company takes your stride deeper and deeper into Him.
His arms, His heart, His ways.
And, He does what only He can do – leading you to His place.
His place meant only for you to do.
Wake up. Follow. Go.
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