I had 30 minutes between here and there…
Time to fit “me time” in.
I grab my cd player to listen while I tread the trail.
But within minutes I turn it off.
I need silence.
As I follow the path through the gap in the woods
The animals scurrying under the brush
Jolting my frazzled nerves
The sun beckons to glare through the trees swaying in the wind,
hitting my face just right.
I feel its warmth.
I stretch my neck tilting my head high enough to soak it in.
As I travel through the ins and outs of my thoughts,
I gaze up at the beauty of the colors in the branches.
I trace the tree’s outline down through the winding foliage of fall.
Ending in the dark damp chaos of the ground,
Where sticks and stumps lie withered and worn.
Colorless. Rotting. Empty.
Miles of brokenness lie bare on the earth.
Where the sun can’t reach.
They appear wretched and worn.
A battleground of scattered debris…
Wasted in ruin.
My eyes were fixed on the layers of wreckage.
It drenched my anxiety with pangs of fear.
I didn’t trust it.
So I looked up…
Where there was life and color and goodness.
Where the breeze turned the sky into a light show for my eyes.
I realized then and there-
That this was the painting of God.
A rich vibrant illumination of faith.
As those trees resembled humanity.
Either thriving to live,
Or falling to their grave.
I reflect on the lost souls that are left dying in the darkness.
Not taking in the Light of the Son.
I pray for them.
I fear they will never know the bounty that stretches beyond their existence. I am tormented by what they can’t see. Saddened by what they don’t know. The vastness of futility is appalling.
At that very moment, a snake slithers by my feet.
Crossing my path, causing me to jump back in total terror.
It continues on its way into the other side of the darkness.
I froze in fear.
I watched it with brutal disgust.
How closely it slid near me.
I was in his territory.
This is where he lives,
And feeds off the wounded, the weak, the fallen.
His deception lurks in every shadow.
This is where we all live.
There will come a day…
~It won’t be this way~
This post was originally published over at She Shares Ministry a year ago. I have been thinking about it again, and wanted to share it with you…