To show the way.
But there must also be moments when He is silent, when night falls and we cannot see even the faint glow of the moon, much less the brilliant light of the sun.
It is not for our lack of listening, of reaching forth to Him with our questions and heart cries. Like Job, we might ask a thousand questions, but receive no answer until it seems almost too late.
Like His only begotten Son, we might feel tempted to cry out, “Why have you left me alone and forsaken?” feeling His face has been hidden from us.
We see His light shining after every night of darkness. We see it illuminate the beauties of His creation. Plants, flowers, grass and trees. Birds that sing into the newborn day. Cats that stretch and find a place to soak up the sun’s warm rays. And us, the human race, rushing to get ahead as a day brings another set of trials and triumphs, joy and pain. The illumination, for us, often just means another stretch of time in which we must fight for survival and maintain a joyless existence.
Where is He, He who shines the light of a new morning into my life each day? Where is He, Whose illumination is mirrored in the lives of so many around me, yet I feel untouched by the warmth? Where is He, who spoke to me so clearly as a child, guided and directed, instructed and loved? Where is He, Whose way I promised to follow all my days?
How can I follow if I cannot see a footstep or hear a word?
My eyes close at the end of another weary day, the clarity and direction I seek still evading my grasp. Yet, as I relax, I feel a gentle sway and a firm and steady gait. I tense, until I finally hear a whisper from deep within my heart: “Relax, My child, just close your eyes and rest.”
My eyes close once more, and once more I feel the steps resume, and I, simply held. I do not see His footsteps, because I am in His arms. I do not hear a word, for He is not giving direction.
He is carrying me.
Where He is heading, I do not know. What I will see about me when my eyes finally open to the morning sun, I do not know. Why He has chosen to carry me now rather than asking me to walk beside Him, also I do not know.
I do know this.
My Father knows the way. His footsteps are sure. And I can rest completely in His loving arms.
[Reblogged from: A Word Fitly Written]