As I remember the hands that pushed me this way,
Along the path that I would not have chosen.
It was in the subtle nudge of less tranquility,
That brought about the movement of my heart.
Sometimes in anguish and collapse,
I felt the nudge that would complete me.
And though I would not budge from my comfort,
You moved the world to bring me to this moment.
Disaster and tragedy where sometimes your tools,
Joy and harmony the instruments of Providence.
Landscaped in a panoramic purposeful view,
This moment was birthed, and I am the better man.
Not by internal design, but from the hammer of the sculptor,
Through the sharpness of the chisel, time was shaped.
Thankfully, through the glance in a mirror I see,
What and who I was destined to become, ME.
My Southern brothers, do not let our present distresses dishearten you, but let them mold you into something better.
Deo Vindice!
God save the South!
Service to God and honor to the South.
For the general reader, you may from time to see a nut case troll this pages, he’s a black Hebrew Israelite, which is fine, I’m not judging.
We love him, pray to our beloved savior for his conversion. He never actually has anything of value to say, so don’t engage him. His comments will be deleted as rapid as possible.
He is presently, laughably, our goody pet.
thanks for the encouragement brother. Praise the LORD Jesus Christ today is the day of His creation.