Sunday, November 18, 2012

Sheltered










 Through the pines, where soft breezes blow, through the pines, we see traces of snow, through the pines, where birds, build their nests, a doe and her fawn take rest. In His arms, we can safely go, in His arms, we find shelter, from the wild storms that blow; In His arms, we find sweet rest, gather strength, and are richly blessed.

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