There is finally a chill in the air.
It seemed as if summer would just carry on, friendly and warm. Even as I pulled the fall decorations out of the attic and filled my house with yellows and oranges and reds, the grass was still green, the afternoons hot.
In some ways it was a gift to wait. The slowing is often a treasure, because time can soften the sharp edges of grief.
But now the mornings are dark and cool. The days are shorter. And it’s time to make friends with the cold again. Time to make friends with the dark.
“Don’t doubt in the dark what you once believed in the light.”
That, friends, is our faith walk. We must believe in the warmth when we are cold. We must believe in the light when it is dark. It is not faith if we can always understand. It is not faith if we always know the way.
It is not faith if we are always warm.
God sometimes calls us deeper in or higher up. Where the air stays cold and thin and the view is filled with foggy mist. He calls us where we wouldn’t choose to go. Where we cannot find the way, and we cannot see His face. We are chilled and lonely and frightened.
But we are not alone.
Oh, the deep, deep love of Jesus. It follows us. It surrounds us. It covers us. Even in the coldest place, its warmth protects us and fills us. Its light is enough to brighten the darkest cave. It is a rescuing, pursuing love.
It brings a settling, an aligning, a comforting.
His love always finds me. It helps me wait.
It is deeper than the deepest place.
It blankets me, and I am warmed.
Light arises in the darkness for the upright. Psalm 112:4
You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Psalm 139:5
For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39