Before todays earlier post (about 6:40 a.m.), while the sun was low in the east, we three (two dogs and me) were walking to "the spot" on Phillips Lake Loop Road. And I was struck with the glaring contrasts of the solitude and silence of this place compared to the cries of pain and suffering that must be occuring the world over. Where are things not moribund? At this time, in this place, there were no sounds...all was quiet. The only noise was the crackling synapses of my mind...wondering.
I wondered if it was right that I should be so blessed while others are so cursed. It wasn't so much a sense of guilt as it was a sense of responsibility; to labor and speak for the Lord. Probably I've mentioned my impatience with what seems to be timidity in the corpus of the church. Quoting the Psalms (116:9 and 10), Paul writes, "...we also believe and therefore we speak." [2nd Corinthians 4:13].
And if we believe we also will speak. Enough for one day. e.c.