The pre-dawn sky was crisp and clear, every star on full display. But in my heart, fog clouded my vision. The weekend prior had been a time of recovery and restoration, both body and soul.
Retreating to quiet spaces, the Lord invited me to walk and talk like old friends do. The sharing of bread and wine nourished my aching soul and I rose again, ready to face the days ahead.
It must’ve struck a nerve, because evil came at me hard, striking heavy blows against the rock I stand upon. The constant barrage un-steadied my footing. Doubt and fear crept in. I sought the Lord with more tears than words, because He knows my heart and the Spirit intercedes on my behalf when I’ve nothing left to pray.
A full moon commanded the night sky, yet the weight on my shoulders kept my eyes from lifting upwards. Then an Air-Life helicopter flew past carrying someone in greater need of Grace, so I paused, and poured out all I had left… for them.
I couldn’t catch my breath. I fought. I pushed. Through a mixture of tears and sweat, I was broken.
A dear friend pointed out how the moon had turned from a brilliant white to fiery orange, magnificent in color, but lacking in warmth or solace. As it descended, it turned to blood red, dragging my heart along into the darkness.
Then a cool breeze blew across my face, re-framing what I had just seen.
The bright moon that had ruled the night faded to a single flame, then a glowing ember before disappearing beneath the horizon. Over my shoulder, alternating hues of pinks and golds ignited the eastern sky. The long, dark night had come to an end.
The promise of a new day drew me from the mire. My feet were a little faster, my arms a little stronger, my heart, a lot lighter. I found my second wind (as if I ever had a first), and I could breathe again.
Father, I give You thanks and praise for the blessings You have in store. May You be glorified in all You will do today.
Amen…
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