Listen, heavens, and I will speak; hear, earth, the words of my mouth. Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants. Moses' final address includes a song. A poem. A prophecy. He's calling heaven and earth to witness. He's asking that his words fall like rain and dew, like showers that nurture growth. There's tenderness here. There's a desire that his words would nourish, would cultivate, would cause growth. Not harsh proclamation. Not threats. But gentle rain. Nourishing dew. The kind of words that help things grow. I think about the power of words to wound or to heal. Moses is choosing to let his final words be like rain. He's choosing to nourish the generation that will carry on without him. He's choosing to water the seeds of faith that he's planted. His last gift is not a curse but a song.
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