Monday, July 16, 2012

I have a friend who just learned her cancer has returned.  On her blog, she shared a previous entry (August, 2011) from her journal.  I found the words amazing!

As Abraham took off for an unknown journey, I too have entered an unfamiliar path. Not a path I would have chosen and yet it’s where I find myself. The air is dry. The heat, stifling. The wind kicks up dust and blurs my vision. I lose my footing. My feet crack and bleed and I fall. Water, life, sustenance all seem a fading luxury. As the wind whips over my head, I struggle to get up–and fail. I try again–and fail. Then I feel a tug upon my hand. Strong, rough hands take hold of mine and pull me up. Capable hands. Hands that are wounded and scarred. Serving hands. When I stand, His hand continues to hold mine, guiding and comforting me. Nothing is said but the air has a promising hint of cool. My vision is cleared, if only for a little while. A pool of water, refreshing, sparkling water, is ahead. His hand squeezes mine and I know everything will be all right.  There will be more wind. More stifling heat and dust storms. But His hand holds me steady. Keeps me calm.  His hand . . . will never let me go.”

Thanks, Diann,  for encouraging "me/us."  I hope you find comfort in them once again.  Praying, girlfriend!

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