always just over the horizon, the future lies unknown. Papa seems to delight in surprises, and one never knows what lies behind the clouds. is it more haze, more invisibility, more unknown? is it a flash of brilliant orange and gold, striping the evening sky?
i’m never without awe when i go to capture a portrait at the beach at sunset. there’s a hush that falls over the visitors, almost invariably, as the sun takes its leave for the day. young and old alike stop, and believing or unbelieving in the One who made it, they stand appreciating its loveliness.
our family is in a period of waiting, for what seems to have been so very long. i’ve told many a friend that it feels like desert… not knowing what “the purpose” is for this season, not always seeing the fruit of labor, wondering if this present business is calling or avoidance thereof.
many times, i look at my own brokenness, that of those i love, and i think, “nothing good can come of this.” my temporary hopelessness taints everyday beauty, and i miss the glow of what lies over the disappearing line of the future.
and yet, in the midst of grey, streaks of color light our horizon, and we hear and see that even if we don’t have all the answers, even if we don’t see the signs that what we are doing every second holds eternal significance, He does.
one heart friend reminded me once, that maybe it isn’t desert we’re wandering in when we feel lost, for desert represents repercussions for our disobedience to what we know we’re called to do. rather, it’s possible that it’s wilderness, where we just can’t see the future. it’s just possible that our soul’s love doesn’t want us to know it all, but rather to soak in His beauty along the way.
it’s possible that He desires to give us flickers of what we’ve walked through and what lies forward.
we learned recently that the light we see at ocean’s edge is actually a reflection of the sun beyond. when we watch sunrise, we’re seeing the light still to come. when we take in a sunset, we’re watching the light that has gone ahead of us.
so in life, it’s possible that when i think He’s been gone from the darkness, and i see a flash of hope-light, He’s gone before, and i still see Him leading. and when it seems the future looms dark, the brilliance of His light piercing the dark is the Sonrise that has not yet happened – a foretelling of what He holds for the future.
the thing is, i have to stop and watch for it. the sunset may go unnoticed, and so, too, may the Son, my Papa, who holds out hope and beauty just past the line where my eyes can see.