I watch the scurry from my seat behind the wheel, past noses of three cars poised to launch.
We’ve gotten pretty good at our “preflight.”
These engines idle; these craft of steel and fiberglass wait in precise formation, just barely holding short of the drive. We’ll leave almost simultaneously. Five of us. Still pre-dawn. To three destinations 100, 200 miles apart. But we’ll be back in a few hours.
I sigh, close my eyes. Rest head to head rest.
Then I look again.
Looks like a carrier deck.
– – – – – – –
I’m most cognizant of it when the sun sets and the moon rises. But sleep won’t come.
By day, we work.
-changing carpets in our rental, working the relentless wedding list, building, cleaning, weeding, planting, designing, then dropping everything to operate an ambulance… (and did I mention my laundry?)
By night, we watch, we war…
-pacing, pleading, juggling strategies. praying. reading. writing. leading… hand holding.
And then we repeat the oft-quoted words of a valiant friend: “I can rest in Heaven”
Is this not the life I have chosen?
I’m going back to Isaiah 58.
verse 6, verse 7, verses 8 and 9…
Because this is the life I’ve chosen.
And I’m going to pull it apart piece by piece… Every agonizing, thrilling little detail.
Because I can’t be satisfied until I watch “light break forth as morning”
in the darkest soul I know.
You can come with, if you’d like…