Susan LaffertyIt’s 2013. I sit in the easy chair and contemplate upcoming travels. Across the ocean. Our way of life means moving back and forth.
And adjusting to changes between two different worlds. Parallel universes, really.
We are heading back into the intensity of culture and color and music that is South Asia. The constant calendar of religious festivals. The daily encounter with spiritual worship of every variety.
The relentless dust.
We walked into a solitary confinement cell at Alcatraz. Dark and small. With double doors to keep out any light. No way of escape.
The prisoners that were allowed to look outside or walk to the yard, had stunning views of San Francisco and the surrounding towns. Beautiful hills and shores.
But those in solitary saw nothing much beyond the confining walls of their dark cells.
The weight on my heart is not a frantic, anxious weight. It’s the weight of prayer. Prayer for my dear friend who is suffering. She wades through deep waters in this season. Crushed.
Crying out to You the hurt. The upheaval. The unknown.
And yet, even there she speaks of Your faithfulness. Even there, Your word sustains. Daily manna, she says. And ponders what the God of the impossible can do.
“If we believe He is who He says He is, how can we not hope?”