Caves are not the ideal place for morale building.

There is a certain sameness to them all, no matter how many you have lived in.

Dark.

Wet.

Cold.

Stale.

A cave becomes even worse when you are its sole inhabitant … and in the distance you can hear the dogs baying.

But sometimes, when the dogs and hunters were not near, the prey sang.

He started low, then lifted up his voice and sang the song the little lamb had taught him.

The cavern walls echoed each note just as the mountains once had done.

The music rolled down into deep cavern darkness that soon became an echoing choir singing back to him.

He had less now than he had when he was a shepherd, for now he had no lyre, no sun, not even the company of sheep.

The memories of the court had faded.

David’s greatest ambition now reached no higher than a shepherd’s staff.

Everything was being crushed out of him.

He sang a great deal.

And eventually, even though he did not know how to throw spears, he did become the most prolific song writer in God’s family.

Alone, cold, hungry, and forsaken, he wrote and sang…..I will bless the Lord at all times.  His praise shall continually be in my mouth……

The song of the cave!

Thanks for reading today!

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