A look at my heart and our story:
The dry, cracked earth has yet to grow much of anything. Sand dunes roll all around but here it is hard packed and lifeless.
I kneel and run my fingers over the earth, searching for any cracks.
A far off sound, almost like a memory,compels me to fall prostrate on the ground. My ear is planted and I can just hear it.
So faint that most would deny it.
So improbable that many would doubt.
But it is there all the same.
I press my ear harder and I can practically feel it in my bones, that rumble that shakes me to my core.
Change is coming to this dry and thirsty land.
Hard packed soil will crack wide open and life will jump from it.
I just know it in my soul.
I leap up to my feet and whirl around to tell of the news.
Change! Growth! Life!
A passing stranger tells me it can't be done. This place will never see life like that. "If you want to see life, head to the jungle, but the desert is no place for that." She says I am a dreamer and am wasting my time.
I turn, crestfallen. Not because I doubt what I heard, what I felt, but because I have no one to share my joy with.
My soul is crushed, devastated that those doubters think so little of our God to think that it is an impossibility.
I am a dreamer, that much is true. But I know what I heard, those rumblings. I see with my own eyes the hairline fractures in a previously unchanging landscape.
I rest in the fact that I had no hand in ripping open the land. That I am powerless to creating life where there was none.
I rejoice in the truth that I may be witness to it all. That I can stand on the shoulders of journeyers before me so that I can see the change coming from the direction of the rising sun.
I am humbled by my powerlessness as the rumblings grow ever louder. They approach with a magnifying volume that vibrates all around, sending individual particles of sand dancing along the earth.
Because even the sand dunes moved aside to reveal the hard earth for this very moment.