Susan LaffertySeveral years ago, in the upheaval of an unexpected move to a different country, I’m struggling.
Questions speak loud. Wake me in the night.
What if it’s the wrong place?
What if it doesn’t work?
What if we can’t get permission to stay?
What if…?
Doubts about the future linger. Rising from underlying fear. In a long season of unanswered questions.
Wilderness. When the voice of the Beloved is silent. And the Word—so full of rivers and streams—feels like desert.
I remember thirst. And crying out. In a dark night of the soul. Longing for His instruction.
In the mornings, I waited. Asking.
Are You there? Can You hear me?
Everyday conversations. On the road. In the store. Are my words seasoned with salt?
Flavored with the gospel? Purified with truth?
Salt caught my attention when we were living in a dry and thirsty land. On the way to the beach, we passed white fields of sea salt.
Harvested from the Arabian Sea.
