Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Dunes and Dependence

I flop backwards, landing solidly on pile of white. 
Shoes kicked off, shirt sleeves rolled up, hair let down, tussled by the wind. 
My eyes ache as pupils shrink from the brilliance of the star shinning brightly in dome of cloudless blue. 

They call this place White Sands. It’s one of my favorite places, nestled in the bottom right corner of the Land of Enchantment. All around me I can see dunes cuddling together, bordered by ragged, barren mountains painting the horizon with their peaks. The only sounds reaching my ears are the voices of my family and the wind sweeping across sand. 

I decide to take to another dune. Slipping and stumbling, I run. 

Turning around, my family have now become tiny, black specks on this glorious canvass of blue and white. Wind, sand, and sky…solitude. Tension and stress seemingly drip from muscles into earth. 

God stoops low. I wish I could fly. 

It’s night. The family gathers for worship. Some of us perch on couch, others sprawl on carpet. We speak of grace, salvation, and faith. 

Brianna pipes up. “Just think about having to move White Sands with a shovel. It would take all your life, plus another to move just one dune. And even then, the wind would constantly be working against you.” 

We churn thoughts. 

Yes, but leaving the job to the wind, and the dunes move by a power greater than ours. 

How do we move the dunes in our hearts? Do we try tackling them with the shovel of independence? Or do we flop backwards, trusting…depending the Wind will do what we cannot? 

Will not the Master of sand and sky mold our hearts just as He molds the dunes? 

1 comment:

  1. God stoops low. I wish I could fly.

    great quote. i may borrow it from you some day