Judge not; the workings of his brain And of his heart thou canst not see; What looks to thy dim eyes a stain, In God's pure light may only be A scar, brought from some well-won field, Where thou wouldst only faint and yield. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER. My first reading of this poem was from my own point of view. I thought about the joys-through-sorrows I have faced. No one can truly understand my journey until they have lived and walked it with me. Even then, there are times I find myself at the end of myself. Those are the whisper-moments. When I hear God's voice clearest and when His presence is nearest.
Judgement Call
Judgement Call
Judgement Call
Judge not; the workings of his brain And of his heart thou canst not see; What looks to thy dim eyes a stain, In God's pure light may only be A scar, brought from some well-won field, Where thou wouldst only faint and yield. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER. My first reading of this poem was from my own point of view. I thought about the joys-through-sorrows I have faced. No one can truly understand my journey until they have lived and walked it with me. Even then, there are times I find myself at the end of myself. Those are the whisper-moments. When I hear God's voice clearest and when His presence is nearest.