2022-08-04 14:37:56
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Night ComesNight Comes
At this time of year, night seems to descend on the island differently than elsewhere. Like a worn quilt, the sky first has only thin places, worn spots that appear to have been rubbed against by giant ankles or elbows, places where the sun shines—barely. As if suspended, the quilt hangs heavier and heavier, weighted by the stars that begin to pull id down, down, slowly until there is more darkness than light. Sometimes, dear Lord, I reach for you and find a hole where the fingers of faith quickly connect. At other times, I reach into something thick and furry, unable to find you, to touch you. When that happens, I depend upon others to connect me, others to raise my name in prayer, others who lift me and my situation. Perhaps I break through to you because of old, memorized bible verses or hymns that appear in my mind, illuminating the darkness. Thank you, Heavenly Father, for the beauty of night but more importantly, thank you for the beauty of your light-filled presence no matter how deep the dark. Amen.
At this time of year, night seems to descend on the island differently than elsewhere. Like a worn quilt, the sky first has only thin places, worn spots that appear to have been rubbed against by giant ankles or elbows, places where the sun shines—barely. As if suspended, the quilt hangs heavier and heavier, weighted by the stars that begin to pull id down, down, slowly until there is more darkness than light. Sometimes, dear Lord, I reach for you and find a hole where the fingers of faith quickly connect. At other times, I reach into something thick and furry, unable to find you, to touch you. When that happens, I depend upon others to connect me, others to raise my name in prayer, others who lift me and my situation. Perhaps I break through to you because of old, memorized bible verses or hymns that appear in my mind, illuminating the darkness. Thank you, Heavenly Father, for the beauty of night but more importantly, thank you for the beauty of your light-filled presence no matter how deep the dark. Amen.
May We Never Take a Dry-Eyed Look at SinMay We Never Take a Dry-Eyed Look at Sin
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Another dense, foggy day. Everything seems unsubstantial. How strange the world looks, so soft and fuzzy, when I know from experience that it is hard and firm. I hear cars inch past on the road, drivers hesitant to go fast in case a biker or an animal is ahead. My faith is sometimes like that—there are times when I know it is strong and substantial, but other times I feel it becoming gauzy and slick, almost slipping from my grasp as I despair or fret. It is then I most need your help, Dear Father, to assure me you are there with me, not only in the fog, but particularly in the fog! Please help me to trust you when I can no longer see you, hear your voice, or feel your presence. Be with me as I grope in the fog; may I draw comfort from your strength that is always extended to me, even in the gray fog of doubt.