Oh my Lord,
The darkness has overtaken me.
The gloom of it pierces my heart and poisons my soul and I fear I can bear no more. And, I wonder, how do I know the sun will rise, my Lord? How do I know this darkness will flee from me?
For I fear it is a nebulous dark that arises from the underworld and threatens to destroy me.
It’s as if death itself has rested upon me for I am cloaked in shadows that have no beginning or end. I am lost amidst a black abyss that drips from my skin and springs forth eternal sorrow.
Here, on the path that runs through the middle of our garden, do I sit hugging my knees to my chest. I rock back and forth, physically willing the hands of time to quicken and bring the light of day sooner, but they do not. Instead, the broken rocks imbedded in the path bite my skin to the point of bleeding so that tears of pain join my tears of sadness as they waterfall off my cheeks.
I could leave.
I could stand right now and run out of the garden and back to the safety of my own room within the village. I could climb into my bed, pull the covers tight around me and find warmth in my own trapped body heat. I could go back to that place, to the constraints of a world of my design, and find a frail security. But I would be alone. I would no longer have the hope I find in you. I would no longer have the joy I feel in your presence. And, I would no longer see the look in your eyes that tells me how beautiful I am.
Having known to well the bitter taste of such an empty life, I do not dare leave the garden. Even while gripped in a darkness that masks the truth of my surroundings, I choose to wait.
And, in the waiting, believe that the sun will again come up.
For in one moment, the darkness will be lit with the brilliance of a thousand rainbows birthed by fire. The sun will ease above the horizon and chase away my demons. The trees shall awake, shake the inkiness of night from their branches and spread their leaves in honor of you. The morning dew will wash away every hint of lies that the shadows cursed upon the land and the garden will be new once again.
In that moment, I will rise. The rays of sun spilling into the garden will burn the sorrow off my skin and dry the tears from my face. A smile will cascade across my lips as I head towards the lake. For I know that when dawn kisses the earth, I will find you beneath the willow tree, waiting for me.
Yes, my Lord, right now it is dark. I am surrounded by all that I fear. But I choose to believe the sun will rise.
I will rest in the knowledge of that which I know but cannot see. And, I trust I will find you there.
Your enraptured servant
“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1