33 Miracles I Cannot Forget

The relief to belief, to hope in hopeless places and to trust that crust is beautiful even if it’s only covered in rust.

The courage to be afraid, to see the bravery in fear, to hold unto the intangible wonder of faith. To have faith and to have faith in faith.

The desire to be desired, the cross of crossing through the dispensations of time only hurt by the halt of seeing GOD.

The thought to be taught, the trough to be tough, the beauty in tears trickling down under the rain. The joy in plainly crying under water.

The guts to say, “no” to a world of yes’s to be alone in a crowded Civilisation, the need to be isolated for the refusal to be desolated.

The core value of following commandments that are their own validation.

The grace to see the course of an empty grave, to hear the voice in the silence, to be told, to be bold, to be old in right proportions.

The gift to be swift in obedience, to argue with the desire to haggle with the instructions of GOD.

The need to be saved and to yield to salvation even if it means walking heavily against traffic.

The strength to ask reason for reasons to be reasoned.

The burden of bearing no burden except the freedom of life which is free even to kill.

The ticking sentences of time, the many excesses of crime, the joy of numbering the days and realising that evil has an expiration date.

The gladness in seeing truth for who truth is, the finesse in being true for the sake of truth regardless of the lie-coated deceit of contrary truths speaking no truth about the truth.

The journey to waking up every dawn; the battle of going to sleep at dusk; the enmity of light and darkness as well as the collaboration of fright and weakness.

The warm correction of a father, the storm of affection from the mother. The presence of food in the stomach, being good to leave a mark, not crude even in lack.

The miracle of breath, to stretch life to all lengths; the absurdity of motionlessness, the certainty of emotions.

The many dangerous walks to the past, reliving the memories and relieving the miseries.

The grace to know a mistake for what it is; the race to grow from mistakes into what should be, the place too low for intakes of what pride is.

The HOLY-SPIRIT, present in all of us – at the same time. The miracle of Presence.

GOD: Making no errors, waking us to errors, a light shining which need not be quenched in a dark world.

GOD: The consistence, the convergence of Providence, the witness of innocence: the power of truth.

The ability to chew, the inability to be shrewd, the power of thinking, the GODly prowess of thoughts which walk into salvation.

The reminder of love, the remainder above hate. There is a lifetime of wonders deep into the print of GOD.

For the allowance to feel; the mosquitoes feeding themselves with the flesh between my toes, the songs without words, the words which have songs. The praises, the graces, the law of absolution.

The many forgotten miracles, the only begotten miracle worker; the chain of consciousness (which is the freedom to slavery).

The assertion that “Servitude to soul-rites before the body” is right.

The statements in questions, the faults in those who present the faultless gospel of JESUS CHRIST.

The need to be heard, to be saved, to be born, to be a bond.

The tenacity to fight sin (death) – which is the very nature of our pleasure – by living (how GOD says we should live).

The certainty in denying the re-occurring plot of: sin to desire to sin to desire to sin. The average metre of hatred per second overtaken by righteous resolution.

The silent amen, the pastor’s echo; the humility of the Levite, the GOD who always provides, the provisions which remind us of GOD. The lack, the shadows, the stories to be written yet known by all.

JESUS for being CHRIST.

The miracle of miracles, the existence of existence, the gift of memory, the skill of prayer, the ache of healing, the bright synergy of ending(s).

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