Laney and I checking out the John Deere! Well, I have reached the end of my rope. The end of my rope? Nope, not the end, just a different strand, a different texture, a different thickness, but certainly not the end. My rope does not end till God gets His pocket knife out and cuts it off. That is when it will end. At that point, I will officially be at the end of my rope. But even that is not the end. Really, just as I said before, the rope just changes. It looks a little different. Because of what Jesus did for me on the cross, the rope just changes color, texture, and I imagine that the energy that I will have to exert to move along this new rope will be nothing. You see, we are born and we start moving along our rope. At this stage, the rope is smooth and easy and it is supposed to be. Babies can not handle the texture and size of a big twisted pro-manila, no, I imagine theirs is more like silk and no thicker tha...
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