One little leaf is waving at me— its fellow leaves already drifted down to meet the ground, performed their final dance of the season. But this little guy is hanging on— he seems to know I’m here watching, and needing to stay alert, to be cheered on, to remember I don’t have to do it myself— it’s the wind that makes me glorious that moves me that ignites my joy that makes my brilliant light flash a beacon to others an act of praise to God— as one of His “untired worshippers.
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