Poem April 22, 2013 Issue

Our constant home

Mandy-kay Thornton Johnson

On God, His children do rely.
He hears our every cry.
God is never absent or gone;
He holds us in His ceaseless dawn.
Even when we feel alone,
His arms are our constant home.
God is always crystal clear,
as He whispers, 
“I am here.”

—Mandy-kay Thornton Johnson

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