[And miles to go before I sleep...]

This journey can get pretty tiring sometimes... and there's still a long way to go...

It's nice to find, though, that in our most human moments, we're drawing closer to Him than we know.

[Restored]

I can feel the sand shifting beneath my feet as I walk along. It’s just one of those things that I still haven’t been able to get used to, and I don't know that I ever will. There aren’t many days that go by I don’t wonder what I’m doing out here or why I let a whole world of comfort just slip away. It’s funny, I suppose, how the mind can sometimes make such a deceptive paradise of the places we’ve left behind that we forget that there’s a land of promise waiting for us somewhere up ahead, a land of green pastures and quiet waters. Out here, there isn’t much to see most of the time; it’s just the ground and the sky and very little else in between. This place can sometimes have a way of making you believe that all this emptiness might really be all there is left to hope for, and I admit I’ve given in to the thought a few more times than I’m proud of. I guess it’s just hard sometimes to imagine that His love could somehow reach this far… and maybe that’s the point... that we’re not supposed to imagine it at all. When those moments come that find me too tired to grumble anymore, I am still long enough to see with my own eyes how He awakens the dawn with a hundred different colors before I even realize it's taking my breath away or how He sometimes paints the sky so blue it'd make the deepest ocean seem pale... and then I finally realize for myself that His love really is so much wider than all this empty space and far longer than the journey before me... and His love is here... even here. I still don't quite understand why He's chosen to have me pass through these desert places, but I'm learning to trust that where horses and chariots have failed, He will carry me through.