Trees. Luminous in the forest. As the dying begins.
Letting go. Piece by piece. Leaf by leaf.
Orange. Yellow. Red.
Beautiful. And certain.
Seasons change.

Trees. Luminous in the forest. As the dying begins.
Letting go. Piece by piece. Leaf by leaf.
Orange. Yellow. Red.
Beautiful. And certain.
Seasons change.
The wilderness soundtrack sounds like desert thirst. Barren field. Little fruit.
We sit in a conference with workers from some of those fields. Where the gospel has been sung. Refrain after refrain.
To no response.
Their voices strain at the chords. Lament in the place of veiled hearts. Where darkness is palpable.
I remember. The struggle to keep singing in the land where captives remained captive. Hearts closed to the One and Only.
Beautiful Sarai left all she’d ever known because God called her husband Abram to go out. Out from the familiar. Out from his land, his relatives, his father’s house.