Susan LaffertyA dense fog settled over me for several years. Like the fog slowing urban streets where we lived during part of that time.
Nearing 50, I joked about brain overload. How pieces of my mind were escaping. Slipping away.
But this was disorienting.
The thick fog outside our urban apartment hid the sun. Birds stopped singing.
I struggled to sing too. During the season I was menopaused.
Simple earthen vessels. There they are.
Wading through laws in Leviticus, I see them. In the details. Amid ritual regulations for priests, Levites, and the people of God.
In these particular earthen pots, they boil the sin offering. That only priests may eat.
Their use is short-lived in the days of the Old Covenant. Bronze bowls can be scrubbed clean. Earthenware can’t.
For those who need to surrender. Again. I know how it is. Maybe you’re struggling with the call to stay. Or go. I’ve been there.
Below is a simple heart cry from several years ago. When I felt weak. Empty.
He heard.
