I’m gliding through the desert on a silver-grey ribbon, rapidly rolling toward my future. Not sure of the number of miles left to be traveled, I fix my eyes on that point on the horizon where the road appears to end. I crank up the volume on tunes from my past and lose myself in remembrances of the good and the bad of those far away years. All those things I’ve left behind but live on in me, forming who I am now. I meet my focal point on the horizon and the future passes through me, slips my grasp, and melds into the present, eternal moment. I fix my eyes on the next horizon and keep moving forward. My bad hip aches from sitting too long and my head is beginning to hurt. I’m hungry, sleepy, and weary of travel but I can’t let my physical frailty detour me from reaching my destination. I’m finally going home after many long years of exile in a foreign land. Even though I built a good life in my second country, I’m anxious to return to that place that I remember only as a feeling of complete safety and joy. In an attempt to ignore and over-ride my physical complaints, I open my mind to the scenery and my thoughts lift and are carried away by the desert’s beautiful display of early autumn color. It’s been an unusually, wet year and the desert is rejoicing in celebration. Waves of tall, cured grasses undulate across the desert floor, as the Rabbit Brush, Broom Weed, and Wild Asters dazzle my eyes, all decked-out in their very best attire.
My desert day-dream comes to an abrupt end when a gust of strong wind side-swipes my car and I find myself suddenly, in the wrong lane. I quickly, respond and as I correct my path, I notice that dark clouds have formed and a storm is directly, ahead. Startled and fearful, my thoughts turn upward and I pray for safety and guidance; “Lord, get me through this, keep me safe, I’m nearly home! Please, don’t abandon me now…” Large, cold drops begin to splatter on my windshield, faster and faster until they form a blinding rain. I turn up the speed on my wipers, hunker over the wheel, determined not to give up when I’m so near to arrival but I’m still not sure exactly, how much further I must go. The storm intensifies and common sense takes over, as I decide to pull over and wait out the storm. I grab my favorite sweater from the back seat and wrap it tight around me. Road weariness takes over and as the storm rages, I drift off to sleep.
A Messenger from my dreams jostles me awake, as the first rays of sun began to rise. Such a beautiful sunrise! Unlike any I’ve ever seen, blesses my eyes with radiant blushes of bright yellow and rose. As the sky fills with an ephemeral light, I catch my breath in amazement in response to a landscape beyond anything I could ever imagine. Immediately, I notice that I have absolutely, no pain or hunger. I look down at my hands and somehow, they’ve been restored with smooth, youthful skin! I pull down the visor and look in the mirror and am astonished when I realize my complete transformation from aging woman to youthful vigor! How can this be…then I see Him; my dearest and best friend, the One who went home ahead of me to prepare my own special place. Without Him, there would be no home-coming for me; I would have died in exile but He gave His life for me and by His blood, purchased a room for me in Heaven. My heart fills with rapture when I fully realize that I’ve reached the end of my long journey and finally, I’m home! Jesus is near now and our eyes meet and lock in a loving gaze. I open the car door and run to meet those outstretched arms and He enfolds me in an embrace that I can only describe as consummate joy!
The mark of a good writer is when the reader can picture the story in their own mind. I can picture all of this as if I was there with you. I see the images as you wrote them.
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You made my day, Robert.:0)
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🙂
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This is a beautiful of what lies ahead. Thanks!
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Thank you. It was fun to write.
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