The faintest of hopes Not a trace of faith my first stumbling steps, only the faintest of hopes, so I built, upon reasonable assumptions, a patchwork, uninspired view and crowned it my faith. I grew dependent upon it, as it bloomed and evolved – longing to live by it, not to die without it – a living, working faith that proves itself each day, as it eclipses all else, even the ultimate goal and always turning back my attention to the path and to my Companion, every step a communion with that One Who first provoked within me this marvelous, almost hopeless, fanciful and once faithless quest. O child of God, while you were busy searching for God, He’s been methodically preparing the way for your return.
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