storm

No, it is not a windstorm as we often have here or even heavy snow fall…
No, it is not hail as big as golf balls dropping from the ink sky like we’ve had in Hammanskraal…
No, it is not rain and rain and rain that swell a quiet stream into violent torrents like the Tugela River..

This kind also brews; flashes out recognisable signs; grumbles; stirs; takes time to mature.
We saw it coming. We knew it had to come.
Because we asked, have been asking…
Home trembled twice this past week.
It.will.hit.us.

It is Lent.
We also ask, ‘May this cup pass, but not our will…’
We have to walk it out.

And so here, our lifelines to prepare.
Proximity is power. IN. He is with us. IN. It is the eye of the storm. IN. The danger does not pass but fear flees.
Our starting point guarantees the outcome. Is it on defeat or is it on overflow goodness? Our grief WILL turn out for our ultimate good.
Gratitude heals and turns everything into happiness.

It is Lent, soon to be Good Friday.
Dark Saturday will follow on.
Our eyes are fixed on Glorious Sunday!