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  • Writer's pictureDeb Killian

Summer Attire

It’s been a long winter.  Holed up inside, lonely river water & soundless stadiums.  Just a glimpse of the sun has people grabbing for sandals, shorts and sleeveless tops.  I smile as they strain upturned faces struggling to feel the heatless rays on their countenances.  Vitamin D, warm or not, is a good thing.

I’ve held out.  I’ve yet to expose myself to the elements.  My legs are still encased in the fibers of my stockings.  Summer tops and flip flops are safely put away until the temperature dictates change.  I find a comfortable security wrapped in my old black sweater.  I love the new experience of season changes but drag my feet as I leave one behind and stretch toward the new.  It’s not so much that I like routine or dislike new adventures.  I’m just a sucker for the coziness of a good, fluffy robe. 

But God…

…dropped a vision on me the other day. The uncomplicated version consisted of me standing in a huge meadow.  To my left was a sparkly bubbling brook, the sun and a tree with a hollowed out ‘seat’, a writing table and a bookcase.  Heading to a lone tree quite a ways away to the right was a ‘yellow brick road’. I moved to sit beneath ‘my’ tree when I heard the Lord tell me “there is knowledge at the tree beyond.  You have found a place of comfort and you can always return for a season, but I need you to make your way down the path before you.  There you will find new information.”

I faltered. “Yes, you just settled but you may not stay. You will never ‘stay’. Like shedding your winter clothes for the vulnerability of summer attire, you will be subject to new environments and ravages of nature. But here I AM gathering and sending angelic presence to support you…” 

I saw myself turn toward the distant tree, take a deep breath and begin to walk. My neck aches as I force myself not to look back, longing for the cool brook and tree nook. For just that moment, I understood Lot’s wife.

Open to the elements while running toward something new is overrated, though necessary.

Encased in angelic fold

I feel the sanctity of Your love

Brimming desire to look into Your eyes

Overcomes a weary heart.

One more beat

One more beat

Your passion becomes my strength.

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