Guys, all of us have a place in history. Mine is clouds. A cloud is made of billows upon billows upon billows that look like clouds. As you come closer to a cloud you don't get something smooth, but irregularities at a smaller scale.
Clouds and darkness surround us, yet Heaven is just, and the day of triumph will surely come, when justice and truth will be vindicated. They come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.
I think God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars. Forests, lakes, and rivers, clouds and winds, stars and flowers, stupendous glaciers and crystal snowflakes - every form of animate or inanimate existence leaves its impress upon the soul of man.
