THE ROCK IN A WEARY LAND
In a dry and thirsty land, my frame bent against the wind: struggling to find a place
Of rest. My strength was weakening. Should I lie down and let the dust storm cover me? Was the struggle too great?
I cried out, "Oh God…help me!"
My feet trudged on. I covered my face, against the grains of sand, which plummeted me.
Was it a mirage? I shielded my eyes with my hands from the burning wind.
Could it be a Rock in this terrible storm? With renewed strength, I focused on the image
in the distance. Ignoring the force of the wind and sand pelting my being, I struggled on.
I fell against the Rock. It was not a mirage. It was real. A Stabilizing Strength in