Just when I was on the edge of a slump, having opened my
curtains on to another dark morning, the sun burst through and streaks of blue
divided the bands of dirty white cloud. Looking out the prayer window at the
familiar field, I noticed the stripes of shadow stretching long across the green
grass. Shadows of the leafless trees lining the driveway. Shadows suggesting
trees far taller than they are.
The sun sits low in the sky in a Scottish December. Its
light-beams illuminate the south-facing branches and trunks, leaving the rest dull
and brown. It’s as though a divine painter dipped a pointed paintbrush into a
pot of gold in order to outline all that faces the sun.
The sun has not deserted us, and neither has the Son. Nothing
in the news is a surprise to Him. We are not abandoned, not left alone and
helpless. I am facing Him so that His paintbrush can outline me in His light.
Perspective is everything. Focus is key.
Come, thou long-expected Jesus. Bless every hungry heart
today; encourage every faltering soul. The light shines in the darkness, and
the darkness hasn’t overcome it.
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