“…and you shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will give…”
I woke up this morning, in the wee small hours, to the sound of my smelly beagle baying outside. I stumbled to the backdoor, unsettling dreams still clinging to my head and hair, it was dark in the house, Andrew was there letting Hunter back in, “It’s nothing darlin, I got it, go back to bed.”
I crashed in the sheets, still hanging on to their warmth, pulled the covers up to below my chin and reluctantly returned to my dream, running running, words caught in my throat.
“You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God.”
It felt like hours later, days, weeks later, when my eyes opened the next time. Soft, dewy light lazily drifted in. I could see specs of little hairs floating in the air as the fan spun round and around and around. I made it. Another day. A new day. A fresh start.
“You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate.”
There are seasons of darkness. There are times of suffering when you need to hole up, curl in tight, protective, womb-like and gently take care of your wounds. And then one day, the light breaks through. And it’s time to get out of bed.
“…But you shall be called My Delight Is in Her.”