I will call upon God, and the LORD will deliver me. In the evening, in the morning, and at the noonday, He will hear my voice. He will bring me safely back . . . God who is enthroned of old, will hear me.
Happy are the people whose strength is in You! whose hearts are set on the pilgrims’ way. Psalm 84:4
For my part, I will sing of your strength; I will celebrate your love in the morning; For you have become my stronghold, a refuge in the day of my trouble. To You, O my Strength, will I sing; for you, O God, are my stronghold and my merciful God. Psalm 59:18–20
Yesterday Darci showed up on my front doorstep with a handful of jonquils.
And, dang, we have been community for a long, long time. I dunno, twenty-five years?
Again and again, God declares in a big clear voice that this pilgrim’s way is not me against the world. He is there every step of the way. And it is not just a theoretical me and an invisible and quite distant God sort of floating above the rocky road shouting directions to me every now and then in King James English, but mostly just zapping me with corrective lightening bolts if I stumble off the path.
No indeed. This God in right up close in my face, pulsing and present though His children who wrap their arms around me and welcome me in, who tromp along the river walk every Monday afternoon, who offer me yet another glass of iced tea and a seat on the couch, who texts sweet truths in the middle of the night, who sits me down to a candlelit breakfast every Friday morning and even Miss Everette who always folds up her love letters into tight little balls and then covers them with masking tape before she puts them into an envelope.
New every morning, new every morning, great is Thy faithfulness.