Say a prayer for us.
Last night I sent my wife an email, and in it told a little story about a garden. How in this garden two had worked side by side to make it flourish, to make it grow, and it was beautiful. And that as the Gardeners drew apart, it became empty, full of weeds, and deserted. But that if only the two gardeners would come together again it could once again be a place of beauty, strength, nourishment, and comfort.
It was actually a good little story. Somewhat of a parable.
So, I am waiting for her response.
But I find myself in a strange place. I am hopeful that she’ll respond in a positive manner, but bracing for the reality that she won’t. Strange combination of hope and reality. I guess that’s why spiritual warfare is such a critical element of survival, the evil one is always there to try and blow out the embers. I need more of the faith that tells the Fig Tree to wither, and the Mountain to jump into the sea.