The Thread.

I can feel it in my hands.

Delicate thread, intricately woven together for me. I hold it loosely. I don't want to snap it. I'm following it. These spider web strands are leading me, pulling me forward.

One hand in front of the other... the routine.

Sometimes, in the darkness, I can't actually see it anymore. But I can feel it. barely. Light and taught between my blind fingers. It becomes so gentle, so insubstantial, that I worry that it doesn't really exist. Can this thin strand really lead me?

I panic.

Oh no. What if I am lost?

But then.

Then the sun rises, and it gleams off the tiny strand and I hear my heartbeat calm. I keep walking.

One hand in front of the other... toward... well, I'm not really sure today.

Today, I'm tired.

It's been a long road. I am marveling that the thread never gives out. It just keeps trailing between my fingers as I walk, walk, walk. Some days I stop walking.

There are days in which I sit with the thread draped over my scraped up knees. Days where I feel lost. Lonely.

But time passes. Today it was with tears. with worry. with hurt.

Then it's prayer time. Sometimes, honestly, it feels hollow. But safe. Always safe.

Then I set aside the emotion, and pick up that thread. I stand up, and keep walking. Keep following. Keep trusting. I grip tight to what I know is true.

I'm waiting patiently for the day when I make it. When the journey is done, and I am called home. For the day when I see Him standing there, grinning wildly at His daughter come home. For the day He takes the thread from my hands, and ushers me into His kingdom. For the day that I tell Him I felt so often like I was going to drop it, break it, or miss where He was leading me. And in the very same breath He will whisper back, "I love you. Welcome home."

I'm excited to look back and see where I've come from.

I'm excited to look back and see what my amazing God has done.

So, for now, I'll keep grasping to the thread... knowing that one day soon, it will lead me home.

Hopeful,
Lyss