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by Charlie Morgan
The clouds roll against each other, boiling like the ocean waves as they travel to the
shore. Thundering, the power is unleashed in sound as the very voice of the Almighty,
calling His presence to His people:

Yet we ask, "Who is God?"

A mockingbird, perched on a high branch calls in voices of many, the beauty of the
song echoing through blue sky resplendent with the creatures of the air:

Yet we ask, "Who is God?"

A small child, eyes ablaze with wonder, studies intently the beauty in a small yellow
flower that has appeared alone, in a meadow:

Yet we ask, "Who is God?"

An answer given, for a truth seen--
Designer, Architect, Creator, Producer, Director.
All these and so much more so as to be undefinable.
Yet loving in a way not easily understood, to allow a Death
that lives might be saved.

Yet we ask "Who is God?"

Blinded by sin, self rises to the forefront, closing the very portal that is searched for so desperately.
Reason overcomes faith, separation the result. The blindness turns life into mere existence.

And God asks, "Where are My people?"

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