The night is cold and dark.
I stumble down the path as I make my way to morning, Unable to see Because of the heavy, thick fog of unknowing.
But I keep walking, picking my way over stones; Pushing through underbrush and cutting a path.
Sometimes, I have to stop so that I can rest and nurse the wounds I have received;
Then, I press on.
I must keep going; I want to: There is this promise of the sunrise that stokes the flame of hope within my heart.
The alternative is to stop or turn around, but that would be death. There is no going back; only moving forward.
Sometimes, there is a reminder that the sunrise is real; often such encouragement is subtle.
It is enough: I walk farther, grow stronger and look for every new indication that Morning is here.
Someday, I will reach my destination: Bright, warm, delightful rays of sunlight that chase all darkness away.
My joy will be complete in that moment.
I will know as I am already known;
I will enjoy the wholeness for which I have labored so diligently.
For now, I walk on, step by step;
With new discovery as my companion;
With peace and joy as my guides.