The heavens tell...(Psalm 22)

During our years in Zambia, my favorite time of day was the hour or so just before sunset. Shawna Davis and i used to call it the "golden hour" because at that time the sun would descend toward the horizon and, as it did,it cast a golden glow over the tall grass on the flood plains. Actually, everything seemed touched by it. It was as if the fingers of the sun were reaching out to console us or to apologize for the glaring heat during the rest of the day.
I loved this hour. And it was my favorite thing to go walking at that time. The heat was diminished and usually a gentle breeze blew. Cooking fires were being lit and women began their preparation for the evening meal. Lazy oxen yoked together ambled their way home, languidly pulling a cart over-loaded with people, cassava and bags of charcoal. The heat and strife of the day was forgotten. It was a peaceful time, as if the whole world was letting out a long sigh...I sighed with it, looking forward to the cool of the evening.
I looked forward to putting the children to bed, getting the dishes washed, and settling down on the veranda beside of Mark with a cup of hot milo. Then together we listened to the wind rustle through the guava trees, a bushbaby cry, the sudden rush of a fruit bat passing by...and quiet...We sat in silent awe of the full moon and a million stars thrown across the black velvet sky.
Together, we could face each new day. Nothing seemed too daunting, as long as I woke to his strength beside me.
And just when I had embraced Africa (and she had somewhat grudgingly accepted me), God peeled my fingers back and said "I AM your strength. Now see." And He led us away from there and all that had become familiar and comforting (in its own sense). And I said "yes", though very small and faint. And I followed Him, though I knew there would be no more "golden hour" before sunset.
My heart grieves for that time. Just as it aches over missing Mark each evening when the sun sets and not finding him beside me every day when the sun rises again. But truly the Lord proves Himself to me over and over. I will wait for Him. And one day I will embrace this place also -and it will be a place that I cannot leave, but it will be with me and inside of me. For He IS my strength...Lord, let it be so.............