I praise and adore you, God of the universe, for all you do is right and good and just. At the same time, I tremble before your anger when I do wrong, realizing I am only hurting myself and you are trying to stop me. Your anger is like lightning bolts crashing through the skies. But, when the storm is over, I see you far away in the stars and as close as a wisp against my skin. Where I go, you go, closer than a shadow. You are a holy mist around me, protecting me and urging me to keep on going. And my breath. Ah, my breath. It is not my own. It is your breath that you gave me and made me alive. I grasp at the thought and hold it ever close to me. I am breathing the breath of God! My heart bursts with pride and my soul sours.
Once again, Lord, it is Sunday morning. The sun is starting to rise just as Jesus did after his death and when he returned to his body that morning so long ago. It proved who he was and proved his promise would come true for all Christians: When I close my eyes and die here on earth, I will open my eyes and come back to life in heaven. How wonderful! How glorious! How amazing. How can I thank you? I do not deserve it. But you love me even more than I love myself. I do not understand such love but I bow before your holiness in gratitude.
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