My wish is that I remember it in the harsher days: “God is love.†For when all is bright day and joy, that declaration rolls right through all your senses, and you are alive in its conceiving. But when the day grows dark, and the storms destroy things that are yours; when in hurt over the seeming cruelty of the world: shall we recollect that sentence then? For it is the duty of a servant of God to count it all joy, even the tragedies. Even the tragedies. And I suppose it is forgiven when we fail to so do, but that He told it to us lets us think that it is possible. Perhaps for the saints, or even the saints inside us, when an angel happens to pass by and lets us be the person we wish we could be. We can be.
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