I awoke this morning wondering where I’ve been. Oh, I’m not physically lost, however I have felt a spiritual struggle, losing myself amongst the world and its distractions in this last week.
A vivid picture of me holding Jesus’s hand as a small child floods my memory, both of us barefoot walking on a dirt path in open land, the air, as fresh as a starry night, crisp and renewing and the path forward, as breathtaking as the sun rising and setting. I can see a few steps before me, where we are to go and the soft sand of where we came.
To our right, the grassy earth rises, like a hill, where I am drawn to most often. Letting go of His hand, my feet stumble over to inspect what lures me to the edges, until I realize He’s still on the path waiting, where I left Him; I feel alone. He rushes to my aid when I call out to Him and holds me close; His love draws me nearer, where I am His and He is mine (Song of Solomon 2:16). When I am ready, He grasps my hand again, leading us back to the path to continue our journey to places only He knows and I eagerly await.
James 4:8a Come near to God and He will come nearer to you.
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