I am a man like two. My emotion dictates my ever changing whim. But a whim, a pulse within perhaps, whispers softly. But yet it sways. Plans made are no place for faith, for faith must dwell in loftier keeps. Merely a desire, yet wrought in conflict with fate. Faith, hope, love...and then before our eyes the Kingdom emerges. Perhaps I am wrong, or perhaps I follow whims...but I am His.
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