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Without Water

I return to the vibrant vernal pond only to discover this: 

Without water, it’s dried out, hosting no life. All the eggs and creatures gone. It’s ghostly quiet. 
It’s not there. 

I think of the Living Water and rejoice over the rivers Jesus offers to the soul. 


This post first appeared on Live With Flair, please read the originial post: here

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Without Water


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