Susan LaffertyWordless. I don’t know what to say. How to pray.
But longing stirs. Hunger to hear Your voice. See Your lamp shining in the dark.
I try to look ahead. Nearsighted vision blurs the future. Shapes without edges loom. Nothing is clear.
So I open the Scriptures. Hold Your Word close. And read in black and white, words on the page.
Airport chairs. In the transit area.
Exhaustion weighs heavy in this middle place. This confined space.
And after the 17-hour flight across the Pacific, we mark time. Until boarding begins. For our next destination.
No longer living in the former place. Not yet setting foot in the new space. Caught in between.
Transit.
Limits. We fight restrictions.
Don’t tie us down. Hem us in. Hold us back.
The old lie seeps in from birth. All the way from the Garden. “Did God actually say, ‘Don’t eat this’?” (Genesis 3:1-7)
And asserting independence, we step subtly off the path. Veer inconspicuously outside the way of truth. Go our own way.
We’re entitled to this freedom. This pleasure.
So we think.
