Each day I listen…but your voice is silent…each morning I cry out for you…but my cry seems useless —but then I search your word…your voice is so audible…your presence so near…that I felt your hand wipe away the tear.
Kenny Pittman
Each day I listen…but your voice is silent…each morning I cry out for you…but my cry seems useless —but then I search your word…your voice is so audible…your presence so near…that I felt your hand wipe away the tear.
Kenny Pittman
Posted on January 1, 2013, in Misc. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Leave a comment
Comments 0