Wilderness Writing

I long to see beyond the barriers  and blockades standing in my way. Past a wilderness of tangled weeds  and leaf-lost, barren trees in an ocean of unruly overgrown green.  I can get so caught up with the circumstance or situation standing before me. I see the thorns threatening to pierce and feel myself recoil at the thought of pressing on through the jaggers.  Soon forgetting. Soon questioning.  Soon doubting.  That the path set before me is a good one.  Even when I don’t see the sunrise from the valley. Even when I can’t find a foothold on a steep climb. Even when I stumble along a rocky path.  “Come. Follow me.”  A beckoning carried by breeze,  lingering there in the remaining leaves rustling. To walk through and press on.  To push past what’s threatening my perspective.  To catch a glimpse of what’s to come.  And to settle into an undeniable understanding that He will carry me on.  Even when I’m caught in the middle of where  He is taking me and where I’ve come from. “He refreshes

They who dwell at the ends of the earth stand in awe of Your signs. You make the dawn and sunset shout for joy. - Psalm 65:8  During the long and lingering days of dry season, I tend to remain inside with the comfort of a fan. Within the shady covering of our house I am hidden - for fear the suns intense rays will cause me to melt the moment I walk outside. However, the evenings provide some relief and much needed freshness to the air. The world around me begins to cool down ever so slightly. I sling my camera over my shoulder and head out for a quick walk around the wild land surrounding us.  I quicken my pace to get to the edge of our garden for a clear view as the sun begins its swift descent from its throne in the sky. The neighboring fields and gardens burned in recent weeks are now spotted with green shoots already pushing up through blackened soil. The trees and dry brush creating a shadowy frame set against a now magical sky.  Before me, colors intermingle in a painted mosaic o