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Noticing after that final snow it occurs to me how our attempts are petty when God brings out the plow. Hours of labor with machines manually we push a shovel, only to awake and realize we pile and cannot level. The Lord gives, takes away coolness brings the white, warmth clears it all away with gentle rain by night. Oh how we struggle Lord attempting to do our best, when surrender to Christ makes for contented blissful rest. Noticing after that final snow it occurs to me how all becomes completely clean when God's behind the plow. |