Above Wind River, looking out to the ramparts of God’s inhibition. Challenged to remain as silent as the freshly fallen snow upon the tarp, listening and watching the crackling bed of kindling capture the flame’s kinesis. What burdens come to the lost on slope or plenty? What worries fog the mind of man out in God’s wild. Sans men and the predicaments they flourish. Passions swept aside by the breeze and its dawning we may truly understand God’s Peace in that moment of societal world versus the truth Gift of God’s Housing.

In Promise we press on to the noon day at Summit. Baby Blues and sun washed visage tabernacle the moments with our Maker. On His Terms we recede leaving stellar charms alighting as the formidable Winter’s Cross paints its swatch across the desert. Falcon’s screech alerting the frightened of their coming. Somehow equalizing the unfair weapons of war. Dusk plays unfair tricks upon the eyes of Saints, remembering the mist of this world fading before our gaze. Was that something on the horizon in the distant greys and whites of the forests forgotten?

What hope of another free day have I when the only thing keeping a man from heaven is the will to try, stay and reason with God’s special gift of Glory. Alone with naught but those smelling the peppers and dried beef softening over sterno, I begin to reflect upon how little I have ever known. It is difficult to imagine an easy life for one so wisdom free. Challenged by most thought or deep philosophical reason my freedom was always found in the simplicity of God’s Truth. Not difficult unless wrestled, no hard unless resisted, a Comfort in the dark reaches of the night that I was meeting. Taking on chance and luck and destiny with the Trump card of faith. Armoured in Characteristics beyond my reckoning I met the sleep as some men tackle dreams.

Slow plodding, stick to shoulder several fresh fish tied to line. This day would bring good eats from the valley’s pleasure. Trip extended by the gift of God’s provision I reminisce the miles traveled and the way left to go before contact with this hapless world brought the displeasure of communication with those bound by folly. Yet the Love in my heart again refreshed by time with God’s quiet I recall my purpose and find rest. Hoping, no Knowing that men need this Love that God has infused into my spirit. They too are suffering the loneliness of brutal men wanting just a moment to be recognized and loved without effort or worth, but simply for their equal passage. This is the authority of God to Love where none should exist yet flowers. An indication of our Source, as the lake breeds the river so too is the founding offer the swells and growth of Love.