“He reveals mysteries from the darkness
And brings the deep darkness into light.”~Job 12:22
It is night.
There is the occasional sound of a car returning home – a four-wheeler rounding the corner to pay a visit to another neighbor – a dog barking awareness to our little world – and our own furry girls stretched out side-by-side under our feet until the old girl rises to climb up on the couch. I smile. Like clockwork, her younger sister also rises to amble over to an extra doggie bed that sits in another corner. The older one sighs as she snuggles deep into a ball. She is more and more like me – a little slower – a little more focused on sitting than chasing squirrels – and in case you are wondering, I have chased many squirrels in my day. Teachers chase squirrels it is in our nature – lots and lots of squirrels. Now I chase Grands because chasing squirrels a few hours a day is enough fun for me now.
I think I love this tiny area that we now call home. Hubby and I have met more neighbors here than we did in the previous three years in our other neighborhood. One neighbor gave us eggs. One gave us daylily roots. Many stop just to talk when they are walking their dogs or riding their small motored vehicles. One night when I came home, hubby had a fairly large crepe myrtle waiting for me in the bucket of the tractor. A neighbor had gifted us a tree.
I thanked God.
We himmed and hawed.
In the deepest recess of my soul, trees are one of my touchstones. It was under a big maple tree – in another new home – that God spoke to my 7 year old self. So trees are just a few of the reasons, hubby and I fell all over ourselves when we saw this property. Trees were everywhere and continue to call out more loudly than we thought possible. We looked at each other and laughed. There was a ravine. There were rocks. There was one big rock that we didn’t even notice until much later – buried under the neglect of the past few years. Rocks are just another one of my touchstones, and eventually – maybe next year – that rock will be the center piece of a corner garden in our neighborhood. And – once again, I will paint a familiar Bible verse (just like I have on every property that we have ever owned), Joshua 4:4-7:
“So Joshua called together the twelve men he had chosen—one from each of the tribes of Israel. He told them, “Go into the middle of the Jordan, in front of the Ark of the LORD your God. Each of you must pick up one stone and carry it out on your shoulder—twelve stones in all, one for each of the twelve tribes of Israel. We will use these stones to build a memorial. In the future your children will ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ Then you can tell them, ‘They remind us that the Jordan River stopped flowing when the Ark of the LORD’s Covenant went across.’ These stones will stand as a memorial among the people of Israel forever.”
In the dark of this night, I sit at my desk and write. Listening to the sounds of a fairly new house (to us) and envisioning those things that may come to be and blessings yet to roll over this little patch of ground, I guess the only thing missing from our prayer list is running water. I chuckle under my break and smile. Somewhere, deep inside of me, I half expect to walk outside one of these warm nights and hear the burble and gurgle of water coming up from the ground and flowing down the ravine that has been prepared for it.
God is like that. He loves His children.He listens to their petitions. He laughs and enjoys their happiness.