Dawn. And I’m walking on a path interrupted by roots. Stumbling on acorns hidden beneath fallen leaves.
The way feels uneven.
Unpredictable.
I can’t look up. In the grey. Before full light reveals.
Dawn. And I’m walking on a path interrupted by roots. Stumbling on acorns hidden beneath fallen leaves.
The way feels uneven.
Unpredictable.
I can’t look up. In the grey. Before full light reveals.
We walk this path. Step by step. A path marked by altars along the way. Holding significant stories of surrender. Set in certain places, at particular times.
Personal experiences. Where God settles the question lingering in the thick of things. Opens eyes to see. Moves hearts to know.
He is enough.
One such altar on my faith journey took place mid-day. In a Karachi summer.
Approaching October. In a year that beats all. And it occurs to me. I can’t remember this year’s verse.
Typically, I ask the Lord if there’s a verse to focus on throughout the year.
And I write the chosen verse out. Meditate on it. Consider applications along the way. Note similar themes in daily Bible readings that year.
Today, I’m searching. It’s September. And no 2020 verse is written on my spiral-bound notecards. What?