My song rang out loud and clear as I walked along the dirt road rambling across the mountain ridge. Sunlight warmed my shoulders. Praise warmed my heart.
As I sang, I noticed the song of a bluebird, an unlikely comrade on my walk, perched on a limb of the oak butted up against the road. I stopped to admire him.
When I stopped singing, he stopped singing. When I sang a note, he sang a note.
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Lord, You are our sure place, our constant heartbeat in an unsure world. You are faithful. You are trustworthy.
You are God.
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Passion flowed from his lips. Anguish. Desperation. Desire to evoke change.
Behind him throngs of multi-colored skin shouted. Some cried. Some clung to each other for courage as the amber glow of flames lit up the night sky while blasts of tear gas exploded and the harsh pops of firecrackers sprinkled more anger in the darkness of the city streets.
But this young man — he touched my heart.
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Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference
Learn to be fully aware of the Lord's presence in your life with my new resource,