Faith goes camping.

.theenemylurks.
Once again night comes creeping up to, over, and beyond where I'm sitting. But I'm not sitting by a window anymore; it's no longer mine to enjoy. And I will not be the fortunate recipient of spontaneous purring; they have laps to warm or crickets to chase elsewhere. They are no longer mine to love. I don't bother bending my ear for the sound of the car pulling up bringing my love to the front door. No motor. No door. They are no longer ours to use. Each aspect and detail chipped away at for months, than weeks, now days. So I sit in silence with Jesus on borrowed camp chairs and use a paper plate to write the musings of a broken woman. And He smiles and corrects my phrasing.

" A chipped woman is not broken but worn," He reminds.

"Good point!", I reply.

A chip from betrayal that no glue can ever properly mend.
One from brokenheartedness at the parting of ways from dear loved ones.
And still another from being dropped when no one was brave enough to reach out and catch.
.theenemylurks.

But then...and unmarred dish is an unused one. An unused dish is merely decoration and I never was much for plates on walls.

And my attention diverts again to where I pretend I can see Him sitting. I study His face and notice that He's chipped too. His brows carry concern for his constanly disloyal children.
His eyes bear the tint of the ever fresh memory of loss. And His shoulders seem weighed down with remorse at the opportunities passed over by those called to serve. We are sorrowful together by the ring from which I can only coax smoke. We share our concerns. And we watch the days approaching when those serving now will confront their own walls of uncertainty only to stand on this side of faith for the rest of their mortal given time.
.theenemylurks.

He reminds me, as always, that sorrow is appropriate but it never walks alone. And He instructs me to look around, as always, and I do. And we smile together at the humble campsite littered with faithfully supplied gifts from a friend most overlook as faithful. And I see the tent that houses arms that grow tighter every night. And I remember the choices and responses that landed us where we are. And I swell with pride and confidence. We did what He taught us to.
.theenemylurks.

A road has been blocked. Our lives are new with possibilities; but I fear the plateau. We are in a difficult place, yes, but it remains at the same difficulty. For the past 7 months we have lost little by little until all but each other and some useless piles of possessions housed in a house of His could be called 'ours'. And now we've leveled out. We didn't lose anything yesterday and it almost frightens me. All we have is each other. Are we being prepared for us to begin gaining again, or the opposite? Are we being prepared for the worst?
.theenemylurks.....but I already know his defeat.