I move through the landscape of my life propelled by time. It passes, but will not leave me behind. It carries me into another sunrise – another day – another sunset – another night.
I move through my life like a tear down a face. I just travel with not a destination in mind, allowing my path to be dictated by the topography that surrounds me. A tear leaves no mark tomorrow on the face that was its journey today. I’m like that sometimes. My trail disappears with the closing of my eyes in the night hours.
I act and react like a wrecking ball – madly swinging in all directions obliterating everything I touch with permanent deep fissures. I wonder who could forgive my destruction and turn it into good. The tracks of the wounds I inflict stay when time takes me into tomorrow.
I am firmly established in a good place like a majestic oak. I provide shelter, protection, life, and provision to those around me. I am not moved by any event, whether it be a flood, a feast, a famine, a storm. I am intricately woven where I am, roots running deep – intertwined with the panorama of my life. My life is seed carried by the wind – going where it directs me and scattering myself in places that will eventually grow and bear its own seed. Many mornings from now that seed remains – replicating itself over and over – leaving good marks – good fruit – along the vista of my life. What I do when my foundation is sure does not end with the retreat of the sun and the entrance of the night. But time withdraws and brings me with it into another future.
I am a well ministering and refreshing right where I am.
I’m going to tomorrow and yesterday for me is a closed door.