[After Moses is exiled from Egypt]
Into the blistering wilderness of Shur, the man who walked with kings...now walks alone.
Torn from the pinnacle of royal power; stripped of all rank and earthly wealth; a forsaken man without a country, without a hope; his soul in turmoil like the hot winds and raging sands that lash him with the fury of a taskmaster's whip. He is driven forward, always forward, by a god unknown, toward a land unseen…
Into the molten wilderness of sin where granite sentinels stand as towers of living death to bar his way.
Each night brings the black embrace of loneliness. In the mocking whisper of the wind, he hears the echoing voices of the dark. His tortured mind wondering if they call the memory of past triumphs or wail foreboding of disasters yet to come or whether the desert's hot breath has melted his reason into madness.
He cannot cool the burning kiss of thirst upon his lips nor shade the scorching fury of the sun. All about is desolation. He can neither bless not curse the power that moves him, for he does not know where it comes.
Learning that it can be more terrible to live than to die, he is driven onward through the burning crucible of desert, where holy men and prophets are cleansed and purged for God's great purpose, until at last, at the end of human strength, beaten into the dust from which he came. The metal is ready for the Maker's hand.
And he found strength from a fruit-laden palm tree, and life-giving water flowing from the well of Midian.
Torn from the pinnacle of royal power; stripped of all rank and earthly wealth; a forsaken man without a country, without a hope; his soul in turmoil like the hot winds and raging sands that lash him with the fury of a taskmaster's whip. He is driven forward, always forward, by a god unknown, toward a land unseen…
Into the molten wilderness of sin where granite sentinels stand as towers of living death to bar his way.
Each night brings the black embrace of loneliness. In the mocking whisper of the wind, he hears the echoing voices of the dark. His tortured mind wondering if they call the memory of past triumphs or wail foreboding of disasters yet to come or whether the desert's hot breath has melted his reason into madness.
He cannot cool the burning kiss of thirst upon his lips nor shade the scorching fury of the sun. All about is desolation. He can neither bless not curse the power that moves him, for he does not know where it comes.
Learning that it can be more terrible to live than to die, he is driven onward through the burning crucible of desert, where holy men and prophets are cleansed and purged for God's great purpose, until at last, at the end of human strength, beaten into the dust from which he came. The metal is ready for the Maker's hand.
And he found strength from a fruit-laden palm tree, and life-giving water flowing from the well of Midian.
[After Moses is exiled from Egypt]
Into the blistering wilderness of Shur, the man who walked with kings...now walks alone.
Torn from the pinnacle of royal power; stripped of all rank and earthly wealth; a forsaken man without a country, without a hope; his soul in turmoil like the hot winds and raging sands that lash him with the fury of a taskmaster's whip. He is driven forward, always forward, by a god unknown, toward a land unseen…
Into the molten wilderness of sin where granite sentinels stand as towers of living death to bar his way.
Each night brings the black embrace of loneliness. In the mocking whisper of the wind, he hears the echoing voices of the dark. His tortured mind wondering if they call the memory of past triumphs or wail foreboding of disasters yet to come or whether the desert's hot breath has melted his reason into madness.
He cannot cool the burning kiss of thirst upon his lips nor shade the scorching fury of the sun. All about is desolation. He can neither bless not curse the power that moves him, for he does not know where it comes.
Learning that it can be more terrible to live than to die, he is driven onward through the burning crucible of desert, where holy men and prophets are cleansed and purged for God's great purpose, until at last, at the end of human strength, beaten into the dust from which he came. The metal is ready for the Maker's hand.
And he found strength from a fruit-laden palm tree, and life-giving water flowing from the well of Midian.
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