Lord God of hosts, you sing with the stars and race with comets. When you weep, the oceans fill, deep and sad. You step down to the moon, then onto the meadows of earth. When you laugh, the mountains shake with gaiety and laugh with you. At the end of the day, you ride the sun back to your home and sit on your throne, content to have walked with your children once again for a little while.
God, I thank you for my slowing down due to occasional physical problems. I can make some simple things while I rest or write notes to people in the newspaper. These times are thinking times too. More than anything, I think about heaven. This is not my home. Just as my heart bowed at the foot of your cross those years ago, I long to be at the foot of your throne so I can bow to you there. I will weep tears of happiness and I will sing the song of victory in Jesus.
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