The Love of God

Sweet is the solitude of the desert land. The sun hangs high in the sky, and only the shadows move as day declines, giving place to soft hued night.
In the quietude of the moonlit hours, the anxious cares and toil of the day slip away, calmness descends and the traveller sits in the opening of his tent. He breathes a prayer of thankfulness for blessings that are his, then contemplates with mind and soul the scene before his gaze.
The rolling dunes give back the warmth so lately stored in grains of golden sand. A starry mantle is spread o'er heaven's space and myriad points of light twinkle and glow in the utter silence.
Man looks up and his lips are hushed as he seeks to tune with the Infinite. What can he say that is of worth beside this silent witness to the majesty of the Creator? Yet his soul vibrates with love and thankfulness that this consciousness is his.
Mortal eyes are not just mirrors to reflect the harmony of life, but windows of the mind to seek the beautiful and good.
Humble and content, the dweller of the sands folds himself in sleep knowing that even as tomorrow's dawn will light the eastern sky, so the Love of God will light his soul in this world and the next.

From the journal of S. J. Spiller - Sept. 22, 1938