Susan LaffertyWilderness. When the voice of the Beloved is silent. And the Word—so full of rivers and streams—feels like desert.
I remember thirst. And crying out. In a dark night of the soul. Longing for His instruction.
In the mornings, I waited. Asking.
Are You there? Can You hear me?
My mother tells the story. Her dad was going blind. So every morning she or her sister would stop by the home where he stayed. And read the Bible to him.
One particular day, Mom was in a hurry. On a tight schedule. She rushed in with no time to spare. Out of breath and talking fast. “So, Daddy, which chapter do you want me to read today?”
In his slow Southern drawl, Grandaddy said “Well, how about Psalm 119?”
Today is the day. Yes, today. While panic swirls in the atmosphere. Surging through conversations and broadcasts and social media. As a global pandemic postpones, cancels, locks down.
Today is the day. To remember what is true. And focus on the lifeblood of this walk by faith. The only way we live and breathe and have our being.
Jesus invites us. Right in the middle of the normal and the upside down. Whether we’re walking through the ordinary or the unprecedented.
