Susan LaffertyFirst memory of sand and waves holds fast in the corners of my mind. Living on the island of vacations I experienced. As a child.
There was another beach before that. When I was a toddler. Depicted in family photographs during our sojourn in Thailand.
But Bali reigns in my memory files. Footprints on the beach taking me back.
Hot sun, yellow sand. Volcano in the distance.
Night watch. Our God neither slumbers nor sleeps (Psalm 121).
And sometimes He wakes us in the night. To watch and pray.
I remember when the two emails arrived. One after the other. To our inbox in Karachi.
Same time. Same message. Traveling across the world. From opposite sides of the United States.
The one who speaks truth finds himself walled in. Weighed down. Worn out.
No hope. Only the crooked path. And a deep pit. Face in the gravel.
Affliction. With no end in sight.
This. When he’s fearlessly made known God’s ways. And wept over the judgment of a disobedient people.
Jeremiah laments.
