The swirling mist envelopes, constantly changing yet obscure at every angle. Longing for vision, for clarity, the eyes are straining but cannot see.
The dream is liquid, like waves growing large with frothy ripples on the sand. Keeping my head barely aloof, my eyes grow gritty, burning with anxiety, searching and hoping.
With eyes failing to see and senses not detecting, my spirit grows weak. I am alone.
Hopelessness is death. Not the abrupt departure but lingering and devoid of light, it is torturous.
Hanging onto the speck of light barely discernible, the soul reaches out of the pit of pity, the heart quickens and while hope tries to rebirth itself from this despair, one is cautious because this one is aware of undeserving, worthless, failing existence.
But the light grows steady, until burning with intensity, this soul finds itself on the brink of the grave, ready to step forward with new purpose and reality. Recognizing the futility of plans dashed, admitting the limits of abilities on solid ground, this light...this hope...washes one clean, clearing the vision and cleansing the heart.
Oh, no miraculous ending of burden here, nor the absence of culpability, but the light of hope becomes faith. Faith that carries, uplifts, calms and grows and keeps pulling us out of the pits of life. For though we stumble, yet God is faithful to provide because He...never...leaves.
The dream is liquid, like waves growing large with frothy ripples on the sand. Keeping my head barely aloof, my eyes grow gritty, burning with anxiety, searching and hoping.
With eyes failing to see and senses not detecting, my spirit grows weak. I am alone.
Hopelessness is death. Not the abrupt departure but lingering and devoid of light, it is torturous.
Hanging onto the speck of light barely discernible, the soul reaches out of the pit of pity, the heart quickens and while hope tries to rebirth itself from this despair, one is cautious because this one is aware of undeserving, worthless, failing existence.
But the light grows steady, until burning with intensity, this soul finds itself on the brink of the grave, ready to step forward with new purpose and reality. Recognizing the futility of plans dashed, admitting the limits of abilities on solid ground, this light...this hope...washes one clean, clearing the vision and cleansing the heart.
Oh, no miraculous ending of burden here, nor the absence of culpability, but the light of hope becomes faith. Faith that carries, uplifts, calms and grows and keeps pulling us out of the pits of life. For though we stumble, yet God is faithful to provide because He...never...leaves.
"Living a life of faith means never knowing where you are being led. But it does mean loving and knowing the one who is leading. It is literally a life of faith. Not of understanding and reason - a life of knowing Him who calls us to go. A life of faith is not a life of one glorious mountaintop experience after another, but is a life of day-in and day-out consistency; a life of walking without fainting." ~ Oswald Chambers
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