June 4

Our Father,
Of whose love goes beyond the furthest heaven. Whose height, whose depth, whose length cannot be measured or calculated. The most eloquent mind cannot pen, the most learned's tongue cannot utter. There has been no language nor art, there has been no star nor flower, there has been no infant nor pup that can adequately even hint on Your heart. All that we are and all that we have is finite. We attempt at great degrees to put to ink or paint who You are, but fail each time. The best we can come up with is marred and distorted, but Lord we are so thankful for the Robe of righteousness that covers us. We are thankful that though our own good deeds amount to nothing, Your grace is sufficient and we are counted worthy because of agape. As we bow we say, praise be to our blessed Savior, Amen.