Blows come upon us in many forms.
They are like a leash. We are being pulled in a direction we do not even know where. But the more resistant we become, the more the blows get severe.
Until we cry out because we ran out of options. Like a cry of a cow when it runs out of grass to eat.
We cry out to the Creator even though sometimes we are doubtful of His existence.
Then, all of a sudden the blows stop.
We figure what happened.
We shouted from deepest realms of our gut and the Creator heard.
He must be saying, 'Good boy!'
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