My days are busy and complex, pulling me in every direction. It’s difficult to find time even to be quiet and think. Sometimes I get bone weary and feel as if there’s no refuge to rest from the battering. That was my situation earlier this week when the LORD led me to an image that restored me body and soul.
I heard it again this week. “We’re under spiritual attack.” The statement was followed by a list of struggles one of my friends was facing. I sympathize, I really do, but such reports are starting to sound to me like a report of a series of accomplishments. And that concerns me.
I had a lovely time visiting my homeland with my friend Sandra. We spent nearly three weeks traveling far and wide to places both old and new to me. My favorite treat was introducing her to Bethlehem, the place of my birth.
Maybe you’re not like me. Maybe your path is smooth. Maybe you walk without tripping or . . . falling. Or maybe, like Miss Doodle and I, you have a difficult path before you. One that’s not so level and clear, where you need to concentrate on keeping your balance.
We were driving to town when my friend asked the question. It popped out as she described the wrestling match she was in with life. It was the type of question we call out in the midst of desperation. When we feel confused and lost, alone with no place to go. Enveloped in a smog that blinds, penetrates, threatens. In an attempt to make sense, pursue resolution, breathe …