Call it "part of growing up", if you will, but I've noticed that, the older I get, the bigger life's
mysteries and questions become.
Peering off into the distance, straining my eyes for a glimpse of "What's next", I do a lot of wondering - hoping, too. Ideas and plans swirl in the mist. Some are weak and gray - those dissipate in the quiet breeze, but others rise and swell, strong and stronger; plans, ideas, dreams...
Shifting to get a better view, I feel something still and solid; firm beneath me. Slowly, I stretch my hand over the smooth weather-beaten rock. I've come to trust it; this sure foundation to build on. This is my hope. This is my anchor.
Peering off into the distance, straining my eyes for a glimpse of "What's next", I do a lot of wondering - hoping, too. Ideas and plans swirl in the mist. Some are weak and gray - those dissipate in the quiet breeze, but others rise and swell, strong and stronger; plans, ideas, dreams...
Shifting to get a better view, I feel something still and solid; firm beneath me. Slowly, I stretch my hand over the smooth weather-beaten rock. I've come to trust it; this sure foundation to build on. This is my hope. This is my anchor.
Sometimes we underestimate the reality of God - His ability to direct our paths and steady our footing. I look up at the sky, the stars coming out, one by one, the mist growing darker; the moon waxing bright. He sees them, up there. Knows them by name.
My gaze falls to the tree branch overhead. Yes, He made this too. And, closing my eyes, I know He sees me.
My gaze falls to the tree branch overhead. Yes, He made this too. And, closing my eyes, I know He sees me.
1 comment:
Amen! Great post!
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