The time is 11:30 and I'm beginning to drift, but before I fall asleep, I glance out the window at the snow and the mist. I see the moon through the clouds, and I thank you for your gifts. I mention each and every one, counting my blessings. And among them is something called mercy; something neverending.
It makes me smile despite the cold.
So gracious.
So blessed.
This could never get old.
- Michael Stephen
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