This life is like a road we walk,
And as we walk along we talk
Of unseen things and things above,
Of things below like hate and love.
But hate and love are heav'nly, too;
My God hates sin; I do, do you?
Do you show love along the way,
Make sacrifices every day?
For that is love; you'll see, 'tis true,
God loved the world, and me, and you
Enough to give His only Son,
He ransomed every chosen one.
He died on the cross:
Suffered pain, not loss,
To hold us and keep us,
To save us, redeem us.

Neighbor
Where?
Where am I?
                                                                                                    “At my inn. You were unconscious
                                                                                                               When he brought you here.”

Chapter the Tenth

Late autumn, just after Aria’s nineteenth birthday