by Rex B. Valentine

The rain is freely slicing through
the heavy open air.
I stand under a sheltering fir free,
partially shielded
until the branches, absorbing water,
are saturated.
As they ripple in a gusting breeze
they seem to burst into tears
and shower me.
My worldly shelter has failed.
But you, O Lord, provide a cover for me
if I stand in Holy Places,
allowing your loving arms to encircle me.
Your celestial breezes refresh my soul
with dew from Heaven.
By your grace, I am eternally
safe in your love.
The pure love of Christ
never faileth.

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