There is a place of dry sand
before the throne of God,
where wilderness heat scorches your feet
instead of soft cool sod

there is a place
where desert winds blow
strong against your tent
you’ll eat your bread
with covered head
before the blessing sent

we must not complain
of little rain
of sorrow, fear or less
the gates that open wide to life
begin in wilderness

I don’t know why he planned it so
I’m not sure why we must
walk through lands of unknown sands
before we learn to trust.

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