You may have noticed ... but I've desided to change the name of this thing, whatever it is. The Found Sheep will still write, but will write in a land where the wind blows deeply.
Comments
Will -- I've always found the wind or a breeze or even the simple rustling of leaves somehow very comforting.
I suppose it has something to do with Acts 2:1-3:
When the Feast of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Without warning there was a sound like a strong wind, gale force--no one could tell where it came from. It filled the whole building. Then, like a wildfire, the Holy Spirit spread through their ranks
Will -- I've always found the wind or a breeze or even the simple rustling of leaves somehow very comforting.
I suppose it has something to do with Acts 2:1-3: