Coming down the long narrow road, I gaze up at the barren hillside to catch a glimpse of the lost battlefield. It was not that long ago that I had seen the daring young lions, Nala & Simba, heirs from the king of the mountain, gallantly roaming their lush marked territory. I’d often thought how their eerie presence was one I cautiously respected & admired, but only from a distance. Now my wandering eyes seek to find a similar scene, a familiar memory of warm sunny days, catching Brer Rabbit hopping into his safe bunny hole. Alas, I spot his pounding paws over spiny weeds & burnt mistletoe, as he gathers berries for his midnight dreams. The dried out burned up trees & scorched scarred ground, cries out in vain. I stare at what little remains of once green rolling hills, with plentiful rows of daffodils, lilies, dandelions & fern. This mountain has sadly suffered. It’s deeply scarred with the remnants of what so little is left, after so much had been taken in a matter of only a few hours. I feel it’s pain, I know it’s ache. I share its battle scars from riding the tails of the roar of the beast, that stole the land of the free & the homes of the brave. But as I look upon this harsh terrain, I am moved to the core as I begin to see more of the fresh beginnings of healing. New growth in the grazing land, tiny colorful buds arising from the depth of the charred earth. I confidently smile as I realize that promise I held onto, when I walked through the valley of darkness & came out of the ashes of despair. “He gives us beauty for ashes, joy for mourning & the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness”. I can see His beauty in this handiwork of new life returning through the ashes. The native wildlife & families of flying creatures are slowly returning & giving birth to their innocent offspring young. Healing has begun on the scars of the mountain. We are connected as one, together in this journey, this pilgrimage. My spirit is renewed as the scars from my heart shed the tears of the wounded. Little by little, that underlying joy is released when I see these new beginnings painted across the mountain tops & valley floors. I can give praise for this newness & gift of bringing life to this still beautiful ridge. “Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest”. Psalm 126:5,6
