You search me (Lord) and…
(You know me well.)
Every word I speak…
(You can foretell )
You hem me in…
behind before.
Your hand still leads me to the shore.
Where can I go where you’re not near?
From highest heights to valleys clear, even in darkness, you see bright.
You carry me through day and night.
You formed my frame, in secret ways.
((Wrote all my days, before my days.))
I praise you, Lord, for I’m fearfully made.
(((by hands of Love that never fade.)))
Your thoughts about me, they overflow.
More than the sand, more than I know.
If I should rise on morning’s away, you’d still be there.
My everything. Where can I go where you’re not near?
From highest heights to valleys clear, even in darkness, you see bright.
You carry me through day and night.
(Search me, God, and know my heart.)
(Guide me in ways that won’t depart.)

courtesy @toddmitchell1889 @youtube.com

Patience is a bitter plant, but it has a sweet fruit.

Peace flourishes when reason rules.

Now I beseech you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ … That ye be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgement.
Mark Overholt, Charlotte, TN, Beside the Still Waters, Volumne 30, Issue 5, Together, Tuesday 9/23/2025.

Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.

Lord, cleanse me from every root of evil that springs up in the garden of my heart.
David Schrock, Rutherford, TN Beside the Still Waters, Volume 30, Issue 5

Struggle

It is not a sin to struggle but it can be become sin if we allow dark thoughts and feelings to dominate our mind and control our life.
Those who overcome darkness are best able to spread light.
Denver Yoder, Somers, Beside the Still Waters, Volume 30, Issue 5

John H. Gurney

Keep peaceful in the midst of strife.
Forgiving and forgiv’n
O may, we lead the pilgrim life,
and follow the to heav’n
Beside the Still Waters, Volume 30 Issue 5.

2 Corinthians 12:9

My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness”..

The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision.

”whose grief was not for what … did not have, but for what … could not give.

p. 249, The Last Unicorn, Peter S. Beagle