The "Yeah, who - who - who" of the morning dove combines with the cicadas' rattling percussion rising, then falling, while relentless roaring tractors pull grass shears over the golf course. Murphy, the pit bulldog and I am in the rapt audience perched on our morning porch watch. I'm reading the Apostle Paul. God's love includes all kinds of people with one caveat: We must trust God who gave his son for us. (read Romans 3) The "Yeah, who - who - who" sounds again just as I read the last few words. Murphy fixes me with her eyes while pursing her lips. Time to eat.
Yeah, Who – Who – Who