I
am deep in the forested mountains of east Tennessee. It is raining.
If
we lived on a dry earth, dirt and sand all about and a drop of rain fell from
the sky what joy would fill the world. We
would take the drop of rain, clothe it in the finest robe, blow our finest
horns, sit it upon a throne, place a golden chain around its neck, a scepter in
its hand and declare it the new “King President” of all our earth. None on earth would match its splendor. “King Presidents” keep falling on my
head. Who is this that loves in such extravagance
that He sends king presidents by the infinite trillions?
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