More Than the Watchman

I prepare for the night ahead. The darkness here in the desert can be quite cold--so I cocoon myself in future warmth, layer after layer of protective covering anticipating the deepest, the most penetrating bone-cold winds sweeping across the vast spaces of my soul.

The night will be long,

I've served this shift before

and the moments, the minutes, the hours

pass as winter sap from the tree--

I look ever so often to the eastern horizon

Waiting for the faintest sparkle of the tourmaline sky,

I pace from one end of my post to the other,

Ever on the lookout for trouble, for any sign of the enemy.

At times my heart beats like the flap of the eagles wings

Once it's spotted prey--

The night brings not so familiar sounds--

Sounds I don't want to be familiar--

Core of my being raps hard and I look to

The eastern realm again.

And then the quiet,

The orchestral din of reverberated nothingness,

The clashing cymbal of thought upon anxious thought--

One more quick look--

Can it be the fringe of amber sun spilling

Over the horizon onto saffron sands?

It has come--Hope rises once more.

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.

Psalm 130:5-6

This has always been one of my favorite scriptures. I think it so interesting how the last line is repeated. In literature repetition is used for a purpose--to make a statement, to get a point across--David is voicing his soul's quest in terms the people of his day can understand. This morning as I was reading this passage, I wanted so much to know how much I should desire God and how much I should be willing to WAIT on Him. I tried to portray this in the writing above. I hope it speaks to you.

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