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Tag Archives: How It Feels
Before It’s Too Late
Before It’s Too Lateby Michael DoyleI hold no real begrudgementAgainst the Holy God of judgmentAnd how it seems most on meNot them, yet as a matter of theologyThat it is most how it should beToo often, I cross the linePretending … Continue reading →
Posted in Poetry and Poems
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Tagged Before It's Too Late, Begrudgement, Biblical Theory, Busy, Child of God, Cross the Line, Darkest Places, Father or Mother, Get Things Right, He Finds Me Out, Help Me, Hidden Wrongs, His Hands, Holy God, Holy Temple, Hoping, How It Feels, How It Should Be, I Embrace, I Make the Lord Weary, In His Sight, Judgment, Keeps Me Straight, Matter of Theology, My Complaints, Next To Nothing, Path of the Simple, Perfect Myself, Poetry and Poems, Praying, Pretending, What Is Mine
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