Climbing

Atmy houseI have a stairclimbedand climbed again.No Everest here,no glory at the top.Just unmade bedsand clothes to wash.And so I play this little game(God's children never grow tooold for games of joy),as foot upon the first stair rests, I say(out loud, if no one else is home but me)"The Christ is here!" then rising, reasoning ..."and what is this Christ that I proclaim? ...Why, it's the very presence of the power of God!"Inspired afresh each time, my human feet are soon forgotin wonder of the summit view.No empty ritual this, no mindless repetition ...but simply an ascending thought to match my upward step.

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