The Land That Time Forgot

"he was looking for the city wich has foundations, whose architect and builder is God" Hebrews 11.10

Abraham was a stranger in his own land. Living like a squatter, some starry eyed child talking about how they will own the world someday. But the desert is elusive, even Abraham spent a season in Egypt. I wionder if he missed the land? The exiles (by the River Chebar) used to sing of it and dream of a day when the land would open itself up to them. How they must have wept when the 'good earth' spit them out.

Prophets strain against time. Living in the desert, bearing their burden for the "word of the Lord was rare in those days." Are those who would listen rarer still? The American pioneer was in search of a land. The last oasis they would call home. Yet this place they called "paradise" claimed so many. Still they loved the land and the land loved them. They had been mystically bound to it, whereby they would scribe their names in the dirt. It was as if the land owned them-- it did own them. I am one with the desert which is untouched by time. Here I am a witness to the one who is coming, "the keeper of the keys." Here I bear the burden which is rare these days and rarer still are those who will hear.

People come and go they do, but the desert is always there. A land without beginning and without end. My name has been etched in the sand. Neither wind nor rain can make it fade away. I used to think the land was under my feet. But I have found my feet to have submerged into the sand.
Sola Gracia, WHB