There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.The cloth woven by my own father's words to me is indeed beautiful. I've had countless good conversations with my father, ranging from the big matters in life to the minor events that happen in the endless run of days. And he's listened and mused on them all. I love the way he looks intensely and unrelenting at the world to discover the breath and hand of God, and that those glimpses and discoveries find their way into his words to me. That cloth of words has woven itself into my heart and soul, a warmth I carry effortlessly, one that does indeed feel like love itself. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you.
~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, found at QuoteGarden.com
So Paul took his stand in the open space at the Areopagus and laid it out for them: "I'm here to introduce you to this God.... He doesn't play hide-and-seek with us. He's not remote; he's near. We live and move in him, can't get away from him!" ~Acts 17