Good morning Father, still and quiet You are today. The river smooth, grey-blue the sky and a small gentle fire seeping warmth throughout my old weary bones. It is morning with You that makes the day meaningful, gives purpose to the hours that come. God, I love your peace, the stillness of being alone with you, acknowledging you in your Silent Nothingness. It is this profound nothingness that is so everything, the fullness of faith, the clarity of every particle being vibrantly present because You Are. It is your gift, faith, that assuredness, that Solid Rock that allows me to bow before it confident that behind the metaphor reigns The King. Because I am flesh I need solidity, The Pillar of Fire, The Rock of Ages, The Son to help me accept your gift of faith. He, Jesus, Your Son, my Savior, is hard into it now, morning has broken and he is already beaten, spat upon, silently withholding nothing, giving His all, headed toward his own horror of You as The Silent Nothingness—except for Him it was real—silent nothingness. Oh my God how every particle must have shaken with the rage of Your sorrow at the Nothingness you both had to bear until even light could not move and became dark. I awoke in the dark this morning and laying by my warm lover thought of Your Son coldly alone beginning His fateful ordeal toward You as His Silent Nothingness. I told Him, “Thank You!” I meant it.
God is so good!
God is so good!
God is so good!
He’s so good to me.
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