following

It’s a dry and thirsty land. I don’t know which way to go.

“I will go before you” He whispers.

So I begin to follow Him. I want to run, to get out of this land. But He walks slowly, one step at a time. I thought when He began to walk before me that my relief would be instant, my waiting over, but this path is long. My following means a step by step submission to His path, to His steps, to His feet.

“Look up my daughter.” I look.

Slowly, step by step, the wasteland is becoming new. The cracked earth begins to melt into rich soil.

We take a few more steps. Sprouts of green arise from the ashes.

We take a few more steps. Young saplings branch out, spreading through the terrain.

We take a few more steps. And a few more steps. And a few more steps.

And there are oaks around us. Streams flow over our feet.

Who knew following would be so hard? Who knew following would be so worth it?