From the ends of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For you have been my refuge,
A strong tower against the foe.
Scratching the itch to ruminate, meditate, contemplate and deliberate, then bloviate, perorate, or even objurgate about ministry, music, miscellanea, politics, people, places, the hazardous, the hopeful, the horrendous, the ambiguous, the dubious, the numinous, the nebulous and sometimes even my necrotizing nemesis - Multiple Sclerosis.
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