Hes a man who feels more than he can express; who feels the importance of the past seasons of his youth. Hes an old man now in need of patience and loving care; one who seeks only a few magical words from the lips of his own experience.
The old man has become weary of long days, intense heat, and the chill of the nights; for now has come the time to rest his weary spirit. Its that time to look upon the tinted sunset; the colors of gold, and orange and fire! Its time for him to look upon the smiling face of God!
Can he quote Davids Psalm and verse this day? Has he not memorized its every line? And if he quoted it word for word, would he be credited with an insightful moment of thought? O man cry unto Him, Thou art my Father, my God, and the Rock of my salvation.
One more time is his desire to look upon the moons uplifted crescent, and listen for the cascading waters as they crash upon the rocks below. Hes about to discover a new valley; a valley between the mountains where the road is smooth; and a man can rest his weary soul.
Its not a land where riches are found, nor a place where one keeps busy; its a season of rest, a place where the prevailing winds, both soft and gentle blow from above; and agreeable to every mans soul.
He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
He hurries on as quickly as he dares, for wrapped about him is his shadowy past. His eyes though dull of sight dart to and fro looking for that sentinel standing upon a wall; and he listens intently for marching footsteps; footsteps from before or aft, but none are heard by his ear.
There are no bony fingers resting upon his shoulders, neither harsh voices coming from darting spirit creatures dressed in black. And now as the clock begins to strike the first note of its twelfth hour, a tear can be seen in his eye; but all he can see are the colors of gold, and orange and fire.
For the LORD is his dwelling place; and a glorious outlook it is. The old man can now see a thousand miles in every direction, a sea; a Mountain View; a place where the hills roll from valley to valley; each painted in shades of green and blues and yellow. A wonderful place prepared for him, a place where his Lord and Savior dwell; a land of sweet smells where the sun will never set; and where the old man feels only the warmth of love upon his weary breast.
Phil LaSpino Taken from, www.seekfirstwisdom.com
The old man has become weary of long days, intense heat, and the chill of the nights; for now has come the time to rest his weary spirit. Its that time to look upon the tinted sunset; the colors of gold, and orange and fire! Its time for him to look upon the smiling face of God!
Can he quote Davids Psalm and verse this day? Has he not memorized its every line? And if he quoted it word for word, would he be credited with an insightful moment of thought? O man cry unto Him, Thou art my Father, my God, and the Rock of my salvation.
One more time is his desire to look upon the moons uplifted crescent, and listen for the cascading waters as they crash upon the rocks below. Hes about to discover a new valley; a valley between the mountains where the road is smooth; and a man can rest his weary soul.
Its not a land where riches are found, nor a place where one keeps busy; its a season of rest, a place where the prevailing winds, both soft and gentle blow from above; and agreeable to every mans soul.
He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
He hurries on as quickly as he dares, for wrapped about him is his shadowy past. His eyes though dull of sight dart to and fro looking for that sentinel standing upon a wall; and he listens intently for marching footsteps; footsteps from before or aft, but none are heard by his ear.
There are no bony fingers resting upon his shoulders, neither harsh voices coming from darting spirit creatures dressed in black. And now as the clock begins to strike the first note of its twelfth hour, a tear can be seen in his eye; but all he can see are the colors of gold, and orange and fire.
For the LORD is his dwelling place; and a glorious outlook it is. The old man can now see a thousand miles in every direction, a sea; a Mountain View; a place where the hills roll from valley to valley; each painted in shades of green and blues and yellow. A wonderful place prepared for him, a place where his Lord and Savior dwell; a land of sweet smells where the sun will never set; and where the old man feels only the warmth of love upon his weary breast.
Phil LaSpino Taken from, www.seekfirstwisdom.com
