This morning the fog dripped from the leaves of the pines, making soft sounds against the sand.  Sometimes when we need rain badly, I wait for thunderclouds and torrents of water.  Yet, this gentle fog serves the same purpose.  Quietly, softly, it provides moisture to the dry island sand, refreshing my limp flowers, renewing the greenery around my deck.  Dear God, your love, like the gentle fog, sustains me even in times of apparent drought.  Sometimes I demand immediate answers and quick responses from you—torrents of action and assistance—but your answer may be, like the gentle fog, one of quiet support and renewal.  Just as the blanket of fog shrouds the island, your presence settles over me and gives me quiet peace and strength.  May I respond to your love always without question and without disappointment.

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