There are times when I stumble around, one hand in front of me as I step gingerly and awkwardly through life searching for God – knowing that he is there but unable to put a finger on him, to catch a hint of his smell, or to hear the whisper of his voice. Sometimes I feel like I’m just going to move through life that way – frustrated and aching for a single touch of his robe.
There are times when I grow uninterested and discontented and anxiety ridden with the darkness of this world. I get put out and eaten up with the evil and our – my – inability to live up to goodness. Sometimes I feel like there is nothing else to do but hide and worry this life away.
Then there are times when God stoops low to cup my face in his hands and whisper truths forgotten. His breath on my face changes my heart in ways that I have not yet learned how to express. He playfully dares me to scoop up those dreams that have been lying about and embrace them – to cling to them – and to stand on the foundation of the assurance of things unseen. He beckons me to say it all aloud to him – the book and the dark eyed baby and the chickens, the cats, and the country. He challenges me to walk upon faith. Sometimes – today – I feel like there is nothing He cannot do through me.
And I breathe in deep the freshness of hope.