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We will not be content existing like the
groundhog, burrowing beneath the beauty,
hibernating throughout the winters. But like

the golden eagle, we will mount up and nest
on the cliffs above waterfalls and grasslands,
harbingers of the heights, traveling through
the sunlit glades. We will not pine for what

once was nor what has been lost, nor what
may one day be, trapping our hearts in a
dungeon’s snare, but rather on the Mountain

of our Inheritance we will look down upon the
grandest castles and travel celestial heights,
rolling in the lush meadows of grace
and truth. We will not let tears cloud

our eyes nor mar our smiles, but allow an
angel’s touch to plant starlight within them,
lifting the corners of our mouths, lighting up

our dwellings. Sleeper, awake! Fling open the
door, come with me, let us explore. We will
shed these weighted cloaks, slip into
translucent robes and, together, prepare for

flight. We will behold the sunlight, the Son’s
Light, and the full circumference of our souls’

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