October 31

Dear God,

I believe you made me a promise that was to be fulfilled in October.  This month of promise has been a battle between faith and doubt.  Every time I write the date, the word “October” stands like a well-dressed herald at a castle entrance.   I stand before the open-mouth “O”, a traveler with little wear left in pant knees, and enough provisions for one more scrappy meal.  My pack slides to the ground and hunkers at my feet, as if to say, “No further, friend.  No further.”  And the herald speaks.

“You are here, faithful one,

These walls contain hope fulfilled,

Riches beyond your imagination.

This is a place where your longings can rest,

Your faith can feast.

This is the place of promise.

You’ve waited, you’ve walked,

And you’re here.”

I know where I am, and I know what’s been promised.  But, the sun is going down, and I wonder,

Now that I’m here, will I be let in?

For the door appears to be bolted tightly.

I see no other way in; no window or back door.

But it is still October.

I look past the poised steward, at towering planks of oak, crossed with iron bracing,

And my voice falls like a pebble into a vast canyon,

“May I come in, Lord?”

All is silent.

I love you, Precious Lord, and I choose to trust You, at 8:57pm on October 31^st.  You are unfailing and good, loving and true.  May the eyes of my heart see Your promise, even as I fall asleep tonight.

Love, Brooke

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