You reveal mystery in the quiet, often.
Solitude.
Hard won in certain seasons. Mere breaths of time when children are young. Random moments, captured here and there.
But out of necessity, we take them. Make time. And draw near.
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You reveal mystery in the quiet, often.
Solitude.
Hard won in certain seasons. Mere breaths of time when children are young. Random moments, captured here and there.
But out of necessity, we take them. Make time. And draw near.
Wordless. 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.
“We’ve found Him,” Philip says. Bearing witness. Talking about the Promised One.
And in the pushback from Nathanael, he doesn’t argue. But simply says, “Come and see.” [John 1:43-51]
Over the years, we sojourn in several different countries. Among various cultures and religious traditions. Doing life with new friends, we hear their stories. Share ours.
Over tea with a friend, I bear witness. Tell the most important Story in my life. About the Promised One who came. And changed me for eternity.