The sun isn’t shining as bright as it typically does, and you wonder why. It’s morning, and in your tent, you watch as shadows grow all around you. Now the day has come for you and the rest of Israel to meet God for yourselves. You remember how afraid you were that the sorrow down the street was on its way to your home a traveling grief? Desperate to know if the blood on your door kept your firstborn from a sovereign death, you put your face to theirs until you felt breath. On the last night, right in the middle of it, you heard what sounded like a communal sadness. When one morning, the wind blew, bringing with it a swarm of locusts so large they covered the sun, making everything black and eating everything green. When all of the dust beneath your feet began to crawl. You remember the day when the water turned red and the river bled out. You’ve never seen His face, but you can suspect how He might be when you remember His ways. In the desert now, you’re told that in three days, you’re going to meet God. There are fifty days between you and the sea that divided itself in half so you could walk on dry ground.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |