A small voice, whispering tender love.
Green shoots grow into an oak grove.
Power, strength, fearfully and wonderfully grown.
Whisper to me strength, Lord.
(Letter #2,897)
A small voice, whispering tender love.
Green shoots grow into an oak grove.
Power, strength, fearfully and wonderfully grown.
Whisper to me strength, Lord.
(Letter #2,897)