Once again I find myself sitting in front of a roaring fire praying that the cosmic mix of oxygen, hydrogen, gas, carbon, a flake of red iron and a soup of dirt will emerge into the glaze reds of the first blood flowing in Eden’s Tenders. The ancient Chinese named it Ox-blood Red but redemption has moved my date back a few thousand years. Whatever the case, the fact remains, in the truest sense, I find myself sitting with God this morning.
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