Dear God,  You s who removes how me, what you will from the east to the west what you want.  You plunge me in deep humility and truth at your beckon call.  It is you Lord I long to listen to in my heart .  It is you who sends me to the ends of the universe and back.  I cannot hide, I don't run, and it is you who removes me, sends me, and woos me painfully sometimes.

The bitter cold you send me to rise above this season on warm white clouds of your loves treason. No bag to full or suitcase to deep to prepare the Lords keep.  Still I stand with all I can in your commands.

I'd like to make you into a real story.  The setting Indiana. The character is dad.  He is retiring.  Mom who is working from home.  The conflict is that Fiori their oldest daughter would like to have been there throught the years of the fast paced aging and time portal of brutal forgetfulness and she couldn't tell anyone that she was ready for the suckage of time and the unfairness of life.  She cried and cried and crie some more for her life and her childrens lives.  The dream of peace is dangerous." Spurgeon.

Story, if I could get these characters on the page it would be a miracle.  Line by line I dream to be on the heaven side of the choices made. Story you can be so beautiful and yet far from reaching and I just want something beautiful to touch me. 



Story: that old rugged cross. How can you get me there.

Love,
broken eye