update from sparkleup
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@ -134,4 +134,6 @@ Perhaps the iniquities were within.
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*I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His word I hope; my soul waits for the lord more than those who watch the morning, more than those who watch the morning.*
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Dee wished it were night. He wished he could once more sit in the quad and look up at the stars, or down at the grass and try to differentiate the shades of green, there in the dark where color eluded him, to find in that liminal state some sensation of the Lord.
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Instead, he stood from the concrete block on which he had been sitting, winced at the brightness, and jogged around back of the abbey where a path lead down through the tall grass and the trees to a small altar.
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