Dark of daynight,
Weary warriors leave the bunker to gather and hunt.
Alone, with dreams blanketing, tucked into trust,
sun surges up,
grabbing day-promise as the last one thousand eight hundred and twenty-six days horizon.
Expectation rouses the slumber; its loud voice proclaiming a chorus.
Listen carefully, “Do you hear it?”
“This is the day…”
Rekindle a blaze never relinquished to ash.
Grace pours out hotwarm,
Sweetened in Love
And Gracewords…they flash across the touch screen of my heart.
"We never knew him but…”
“We miss him too.”
“Your God—He is good.”
(Can my God be so good?)
The skyfountain showers thirsty earth.
Fellowship gathers round, shelter through the storms.
God-tilled, mother-teared soil yields Harvest.
“Set aside seeds for spring planting.”
“TODAY is the day you ask of me Lord?”
(Spirit on Pilgrim’s Pathway swoops down).
“It is your time to walk among the living,” He coos in the Psalm page of the day.
Choose to Trust.
Choose to Live.
One thousand eight hundred and twenty-SEVEN days.
My grateful heart ticks toward Eternity’s reunion.
“Walk in the Land of the Living…
And Be Glad In It."
New American Standard Bible (NASB)
I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD
In the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD;
Be strong and let your heart take courage;
Yes, wait for the LORD.