It’s frighteningly early here, four-thirty a.m. and cold. Thirteen degrees. Winter has catapulted herself in here at long last and she is baring her white teeth this morning, snow, and freezing rain in the forecast. Winter is not my favorite friend. She is cold, and I am most intolerant to her these days. Transitional seasons, those are my favorites, Fall, Spring… those are what make me happy.
But I know the need for the hard seasons, the long hot of summer and the bitter cold of winter too. I get it, I just don’t care for them.
It’s Friday. Thank the Lord, it is. And now it’s time to write for five minutes and not bother if it’s all just right. Write it, link-it, and encourage other brave souls who play along. Ready then?
The prompt this week, is Vivid.
Dreams wash over me throughout the night and they come in such vivid color and emotion sometimes, that I might wake myself with my own laughter, or my own tears. When they come happy, it is of course, more tolerable than when they burn in my mind dark and angry, or almost worse, confusing and ripe with symbolism. My dreams in sleep, and waking, are vivid. Always very strong and rich, which is both a blessing and a curse as I see it. I don’t know what it’s like to really live in between, in shadows and in muted tones.
Sometimes I think I’d prefer it.
But then, that isn’t my personality either. And that’s not how I view God. His love, His grace, bold and vivid as the sun. Burning white-hot in my life, illuminating hopes and starting fires of eagerness and passion to know Him better. The God I know is bold and fierce, His glory vivid and real in my own redeemed life.
And while the strength of it makes me weary sometimes, the dreams that come so obvious and blinding, so achingly difficult and scary, He is there always in the middle of it, in ways I cannot miss Him, His hands there…
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