Over All The Land

The wild grass lay upon the hillside softly blowing in the breeze. To look at it was to watch a moving blanket of gold shimmer in the early sunrise. I wanted to jump into it and roll around like a child. The wonder of playing in such softness held my imagination. I let my eyes move about the valley. The foothills dotted with oaks, the valley floor divided into squares of land with each a different color. The body of water sparkling in the distance with ripples marking the wind’s touch on its surface, and looking up, the big blue yonder.

Lifting my arms outward from my sides I started to slowly circle whispering the name Jesus into the air. I spoke His precious name over the cities in the distance, over the passing traffic on the freeway far below, over all the land.

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