I woke early this morning. Grabbing a cup of coffee, I wandered to the couch, sat curled up on the end, and enjoyed a gentle refreshing breeze coming through the open window.
The light of dawn broke through the dark of night.
Morningsong broke through the silence.
Birds.
A delight of my heart.
None were visible, but all were heard.
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Lord, You are my Helper. My Keeper. My Waymaker. You are with me wherever I go and for that I am grateful. I have no need of fear of the unknown because my tomorrows are held in Your hand. I humbly give my tomorrows to You because the burden is too great to carry.
I will be strong and courageous because You are with me.
I will be sure-footed because You direct my path.
And on those days my confidence and courage slip — those days when doubt messes with my head — on those days I will look to You. I will trust You to undergird me and lift up my head to behold my miracle.
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Eyes widened with wonder as the enormous pillar of cloud spun, lifted, and moved to place itself between the enemy and God’s children. Never before on this long, arduous wilderness journey had they witnessed such an intentional move of protection from their God.
Oh, for sure, God’s provision had been evident, His power amazing.
But this … this was different.
Doubt and frustration had flung itself through the Israelites’ camp. They were hot. Dirty. Hungry. Thirsty. Surely if God really loved them, He would not have brought them to this despicable place — this desert place with no end in sight.
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Lord, Your ways are not our ways, but Your ways cause me to marvel. I marvel because as I watch and wait and wonder, You fulfill Your Word, especially in the desert places of my life. Why should I doubt? You always do what You say You will do!
You promised us streams in the desert, water in the wilderness. When we are parched and desperate for hope You, according to Your Word, often lead us into the desert where we finally reach the end of ourselves and will yield our hearts and ear to You.
Oh, how great is Your love!
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A small yellow butterfly darted across the mountain laurel blooms, oblivious to the danger lurking on the next stem. A spider, on the other hand, was very aware.
And waited.
The butterfly lapped at the sweet nectar, moving slowly across the multiple blooms — each bloom drawing her towards her enemy. One misstep — one moment of focusing only on satisfying her thirst for nectar — and she met her demise. Her feet became entangled in the sticky thread of the spider’s web.
She fought. She resisted.
But to no avail.
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