Slivers of sunlight peeked through a thinly broken line amidst the thick, ominous gray clouds. Brilliant rays of red and orange shone down. The clouds matched my mood, and the rays represented the hope I needed.
The day had begun with fear and coasted into self-doubt. I called into question every hope and dream, and every movement made toward those.
It’s strange how one unnecessary fear or worry can morph into an entire day of questioning the work God has begun and continues to do. Faith quickly turns into fragile self-sufficiency. From there, it’s a downward spiral ending in desperation.
Oh, but desperation…it’s the bottom…the thick, ominous gray. It’s the place where our eyes look up and squint into the rays peeking through the dark. It’s where hope is rebirthed and faith is renewed. It’s where we hear God-whispers: Get back up. Tomorrow will be better. You will be stronger. I will lead you to the mountaintop, and be with you in the next valley.
