The hot southern winds whipped her full white skirt back around her. There she stood overlooking what had once been so beautiful--desert lands. The beauty has long since faded, yet she stands here still. It is what it is. A desert--inhospitable, vast, dry, hot, and lonely. She's tired of chasing mirages and ending up nowhere and yet tired all the same...She looks to the horizon for something, yet there is nothing. Some days she even prays for mirages, because at least they are something to rest her eyes upon.
A hot desert wind blows around her, sand an abrasive reminder of her location. She stares off in the distances for something, a sign that the desert will not consume her. Faintly on the horizon there is the suggestion of an oasis, a respite on her long journey. Suddenly it is right before her, not a moment for her to think about what it might mean.
No, it isn't a clear answer, there is no sign to welcome her saying she has found her destination, but here she is. It is so refreshing to her sun baked soul, her thirst satisfied. The more she breathes the moist air of this oasis, the more she feels at home. It is good, and she is happy here.
She walks through the oasis, eyes open wide and her heart wider, ready for adventure, for joy to re-enter her life. Caught up in the newness that surrounds her she forgets for a moment how close the other side is--if she should but lift her eyes toward the sky she will see the edge on the horizon. She knows it will not take very long to reach the other side, if the path continues to carry her directly forward. She is saddened at the prospect of leaving this land so soon. She has found joy here, laughter, and refreshment, and though the edge is so very close to the horizon, she holds on to hope, because that's all she's ever done-- and who she really is. She knows that only God knows where the path will lead her, and how quickly she will arrive. And even if the desert should surround again, she knows His plans are for her best life, and she will endure the desert again if that is where He should lead her.
Beneath her feet she feels the lushness leave the ground, and the sharp edges of rocks begin to cut her feet. The desert or a fertile paradise? That which lays ahead is a mystery that haunts her mind. Even if it is the desert, the sands shall be softer than where she presently treads. She may even consider trading thorns and rocky ledges for sand burns.
The air is stagnant, heavy, crushing. Her lungs heave with effort to provide her air. No wind blows--her oasis has awaken pain. Her path has now taken her to a rocky ledge. Far off in the distance she can see desert to one side, paradise the other, but what is present surrounding is nothing but fog and confusion. Nothing sheds light upon the path. It is night. She stumbles on in spite, awaiting morning--knowing she is never truly alone.
Looking to her left she sees the earth give way to a vast openness, the rocks crumble and fall into the ocean. Should she continue walking on this shaky ground? The fall would be huge, but at least if she jumped she'd maintain some control. Closing her eyes she approaches the edge, unsure of what she will do next.
Suddenly she's falling, falling...along side her she sees the rocky cliffs rushing up as she plummets downward. All she can hope is to hit the water and not the rocky crags below. She can only expect that surviving this fall will mean enduring the crashing and thrashing of the tide as it meets the land.
She lays there for a time, while time itself fades away. Unsure of what life will bring her, she's afraid to move. The fall had hurt her, but not in the way she had expected...she's so far from the land she had become so familiar with. Now she fears her company, because she must be her own company--but there is something greater, something overarching...an emotion she can not quite describe. After letting her wounds heal she lifts herself up and finds a place to sit and reflect. Closing her eyes she looks passed the losses, and tries to put an image to the feeling within her. She imagines wings unfolding within her heart. They are graceful and strong.
She is graceful and strong, in her own right. The ocean winds blow around her, and the air smells of tomorrow. Tomorrow smells like promise. Promise smells like hope. And hope is what she was always good at.
She stands with the ocean breeze flirting with the hem of her skirt and playing with wisps of her hair. This air doesn't burn her lungs. She can breathe uninhibited.
So she stands ready, waiting on the Lord.
******
The Lord begins to call, softly, like the whispers of a calm ocean within the Harbor, rising. Almost inaudible, and yet you can feel it somewhere deep within. His voice not loud, the message unclear, but she knows without a shadow of a doubt that He is speaking to her.
She feels that the Lord is trying to give her a gift, her heart is readying itself. She's been praying to be ready to accept God's gift, to be good enough—with God's grace—to be the recipient of such blessings as God has to give.
Within her chest her heart burns with restlessness, she sense it is God calling her to move. God wants her to start walking. She has walked out of the oasis that once protected her from the elements of the desert. Again dry sand surrounds her, but she is not thirsty—for there is a spring within her.
She feels like tomorrow's promise is so close it may come today. Yes, she feel's God trying to give her path direction. She studies the Bible and prays, hoping to be ready when He calls.
She prays for strength to answer the call.
by: RET
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