Streams in the Desert {Part 2}

Behold The sky was slowly waking up, a pale white light rising over the horizon. The clouds shifted from darkness and became awash with color. I gripped my mug of tea a bit tighter, breathing in the mercy that was coming.  For weeks after Gwendolyn went Home, this became my routine. I would wake early (had I even slept?), steep a bag of vanilla rooibos in my travel mug, and walk through the stillness of our camp home toward the river. A new building was under construction, and I would sit on the balcony amidst the tools and sawdust, watching creation wake up and do what it was—tell the glory of the Creator. I was beholding without ...