I’m here, Lord. Densely embedded in the forest of the unknown. And I know You told me it wasn’t going to be easy, that I wasn’t going to understand right away. And I was ok with that. So I walked into the thicket, because I trusted You. Trusted You knew what You were doing.
I still trust You. But I am human. And I think too much. Like Thomas, I need to see Your hands and feel physical proof. I want to see the whole picture, want to see the clearing. But I’m knee deep in leaves and surrounded by the sweet scent of juniper, aroma seeping into my skin. For a moment, I let my eyes drift closed, my ears drawing to the birds chirping through the evening air. Somewhere ahead of me, the path continues on. But I’ve strayed to the side to pick a bouquet of wildflowers, so vibrant and beckoning against the drooping sky. When the morning awakens I’ll fall back into step and observe Your world from my twisted, anxious eyes, longing for an answer to my destination dream.
But tonight, I’ll drop my body to a bed of boughs, a whispering of stars lain as a balcony above me. I’ll still my racing head, my throbbing heart, and settle my breathing to a soft exhale of expectancy. I am quiet in this velvet night, in this slumbering solitude. My questions won’t be answered tonight, and that’s ok. For You are serenading me with cicadas and the gentle song of the wind. Tonight. Tonight You are with me, hovering over me with a promise to get me through the night, get me through tomorrow. My eyes adjust to the dark, and silken shadows sway through these deep and dancing woods. I watch this beautiful ballet before falling asleep with Your sweet name resting delicately on my lips. You will sustain me for one more day, one more journey a little bit farther along. And if I make camp once again in the brambles and thistles, I know You’ll find me a smooth spot to sit, a soft place to rest my longing limbs.
Breathtaking words! Thanks. I shared with a friend fighting cancer, who’s husband is recovering from a stroke he had only three months ago, and my mom who is in her 80’s and looking at three hour surgery just before thanksgiving. Praying for you in your storm. Thanks for the gift of these words.
Roy Grace and Peace “Lord, let my life be a space in which You can work in the world, clear away my inner rubbish, and fill me with Your Spirit of healing, delight and peace, so that everything I do may be the fruit of Your life in me.”
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