She gazes over the endless water, searching for that far horizon--for the shore of promise. There upon the water's surface, something unfamiliar is reflected. Maybe it is a glimpse of tomorrow. Maybe it is the distant shore.
Her heart rate accelerates at the possibility of her finding an answer to her days and nights of seeking. She blinks. Once—still there. Twice—still there. Three times...
Three times and it is gone, vanished before her eyes. Is something blocking that which was being reflected? Was there ever anything really there? She finds no clarity on these questions, but she refuses to let it make her doubt her Guide—her loving Lord.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Gray Skies Over Them [02.12.08]
Right when the skies seem so clear before her, she sees the clouds bending down toward earth with angry urgency. They have come to surround so many, leading them down paths of pain and confusion. Isolating many in lonliness. To her right and to her left she sees it. It is before her and behind her. Each glimpse steals a breath away from her until she is left feeling winded, exhausted, and empathy overwhelms. There are just too many. As she runs down one path, she must choose to pass another. She cannot make it to all of their sides...she cannot offer comfort to each.
In her own life, the ground feels steady. She feels God's love swelling up within her. She isn't afraid. Curiousity has replaced worry. Dreams have replaced fear. Yet, she isn't sure which dreams to dream, for she dreams a hundred half dreams. There is the moon and lamps to guide her path. She knows she is not alone--And her hope seems daily more mature.
Yet, she cannot stand to look at the gray skies over them and do nothing. So she comforts those in reach, and those she cannot, she prays for.
In her own life, the ground feels steady. She feels God's love swelling up within her. She isn't afraid. Curiousity has replaced worry. Dreams have replaced fear. Yet, she isn't sure which dreams to dream, for she dreams a hundred half dreams. There is the moon and lamps to guide her path. She knows she is not alone--And her hope seems daily more mature.
Yet, she cannot stand to look at the gray skies over them and do nothing. So she comforts those in reach, and those she cannot, she prays for.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
The Lights of Night [02.02.08]
Closing her eyes she feels the glow dance across her skin. The moon is shining and around her sits several lamps. They glow, reflecting the light from the source of all light. Peace overtakes in this moment, and she allows herself to relax for a moment.
Words of thanksgiving slip from her lips, floating up from an abundantly thankful heart. It may be night, but she isn't completely in the dark.
Words of thanksgiving slip from her lips, floating up from an abundantly thankful heart. It may be night, but she isn't completely in the dark.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
