Restricted Movement Order.
It feels good to be at home and not at work where I’m unhappy. Good to be away from the senseless, endless, inane chatter. Away from the stress and terrible work weeks we’ve had.
The sun dapples kisses on the grounds and the winds hold trysts among the greening trees. Everything is in bloom. Every day, a new zinnia blooms, a new rose. Even the Desert Rose is about to bloom. The girls’ marigolds are coming up too. They’ve never planted Mary~golds before, and are happily awaiting the first flowers.
In this little sunny spot bordered by pretty blossoms, it’s easy to feel as if God has cupped it out of the land just for us. Sitting beneath the whispering star tree and the purple~crusted brooches it wears, looking out at the green grass and all the loveliness before me, the anxiety over the pandemic falls silent. Despite the dark news, despite the worrying updates, peace blankets over the fears and the worries.
Last night’s 4 Crosses in the sky feel like 4 swords, belonging to 4 warriors – all those I’ve consecrated my country to. But that is my thought; God hasn’t spoken to my heart yet. Some who have heard about it saw it as a warning and advised vigilance. Others felt joy. God is watching over us, said my cousin.
I believe all of them are right. It is not a time for merrymaking nor for careless and irresponsible cheer. The sprawler’s revelry must end. It is a time of quiet and waiting. We must take up our positions in the watchtowers and along ramparts. All the signs and words written on my heart from years ago are slowly converging.
Prepare
This is the year
Go indoors
The warning will only be given once
A promise is about to be fulfilled. We stand in vigil at the cusp. There is only one prayer for the moment, and that is,
Jesus, I trust in You.
writingonmyheart 