Each day I listen…but your voice is silent…each…

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.

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