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The God Whom Words Cannot Hold
Omnipresent — yet never diffused. Everywhere in His fullness, each atom a cathedral, each breath a chamber of His praise.
Omniscient — yet never diminished by knowing. All truths are born from His gaze, all mysteries sleep in His palm, and no thought has ever startled Him.
Omnipotent — yet never reckless. Galaxies whirl because He willed their dance, oceans rise and fall in time with His whisper, and the black holes keep their watch where He has set their boundaries.
Multiform in mercy, yet singular in essence — the I AM that spans beyond all “was” or “will be.”
He is Alpha: the note from which all songs emerge. He is Omega: the rest in which every chord resolves. He is the Ancient of Days whose age is not measured, and the Ever‑Child whose life never dims.
We speak in fragments — a thousand titles, a million metaphors, each a fragile jar of clay filled with a weight of glory we can hardly lift.
And still… He remains more. More than the prophets could frame. More than the psalms could sing. More than eternity will exhaust.
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