Taste of Life

Taste and see that the Lord is good!

Where is your childlike faith to believe and see colorful pieces put together for the clues the Lord has for you?

Do you remember the wonder fullness of what God offers in this life? The promises what He firmly stands on, his unwavering nurturing nature that matures our assurance with his insurance to cover our disaster of self-misery?

Salvation never tasted this sweet that my saliva can’t stop flowing from wanting more satisfaction for taste of calvary from fruitful deeds in dying need.

The taste of life, is overwhelming with joy that my tears aren’t wasteful in fears anymore, but to acknowledge truth what is dear to me.

Taste and see, the taste of Life what the Lord prepares for you and me. To see the beauty of life, the art of everything he created for our pleasure to utilize to honor his wonders.

Let every melody of songs be given to birth, let every ink in writing be pasted to imitate a model, let every thought be a innovative creative outlet to be expressed in art to perform healing, hope, and prosperity to enrich the unfilled holes of souls.

Taste and see the Air element we breathe in worship we live, the Fire element of the trail we pave to live and love passionately, the element Waters we tidal the waves in Spiritual discernment to understand the depths of Spiritual and Natural relations on this Earth!

Taste and see the dirt, how God forms the grounded from useless conditions to form the clay as the Potter to create a Masterpiece of you and I.

Taste and see freedom, that are minds and hearts are clear to see unexplainably, that we feel sincerity, clean, and free from the snares what our senses feel.

Taste and see to understand the rolling of the deep why we persevere under attacks to come up on higher ground.

How lovely life is to see the moon in the sky in high sight in the night, to recognize moon symbolizing the Prince of Peace; to hear the voice of the Lord say, “Do Remember me?”

(C) Ter E Rucks 2019

Downtown Detroit; June 29, 2018
Photo Courtesy of Terry Rucks

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