Image by perfect_hexagon via Flickr
Too many times, one has only to look in the right direction at the correct time.
The darkened shadows of night fade, turning grey in an early morning light. The sun struggles to rise, yet is still hidden below the dark line of a distant horizon. As the sky turns slowly from grey to blue, I can appreciate the start of a new day. The blossoming colors of a burning sky welcome my weary eyes, and greet a new dawn.
Just as the sun clears the horizon, I turn to face west, determined to trudge onward. That is when I see it, hidden from sight during the shadows of night, and direct light of full day. Yet as the sun rises, shining across the desert at an angle, my path is marked, clear and vibrant in colors not of the desert.
Had I not looked at that moment, I could have missed my opportunity. A path so visible, yet hidden, leading from a desolate place of heat and strife to the shelter and sustenance of a welcoming mountain range. I find the fateful act of looking in the right place… at just the right moment, so intriguing and curious. My spirit is bolstered… sustained with hopeful anticipation.
I simply have to focus on the path, commit it to memory, and stay the course. It’s a short distance indeed, to those lovely mountains of my dreams, the sustenance and security I have been seeking. The journey won’t be without peril, nor trials of spirit and body. There will be a certain suffering along the way, famine will be a constant companion, yet I can see the end so near. All I have to do, is to keep to the path, and sight such visible landmarks to guide my route. Thankfully there is plentiful water from savored sources, all along my destined path.
Finally… at last, a chance, perhaps the one I have been waiting for. All I had to do was look away from the sunrise… toward the path I must follow to see the clearly defined route.