The Author

,center> "My immortal children, won't listen to my heart. Beating still, to free them, but they stay torn apart. Tears unshed; by a God, too far away to care. Pharisee's law,with a facade, creeds they cannot bear. Distant son, wayward daughter, all the same, to Me. Thirsting for the Living Water, hungry to be free. Tired of dying; just to live, to see their Maker smile. All the reasons that they give, for suffering, all the while. Can Holy Hands ever reach, hands that I designed? You can pray; but can you teach they will always be Mine? Yes; I'm here and closer than the shadows on your wall. Let the wise ones understand, I will not let you fall. I can see the glory, from the beginning to the end. But the only one who can write the story, is the one who holds the pen. Love,GOD..."