The mention of the word valley spurs me ironically to think of a mountain. I mean, my mind cooks up two mountains with a valley between.
The valley: a place that I can affirmatively say isn't a good place by just reflecting on psalm 23 - …through
the valley of the shadow of death...
The valley seems to denote extremities or deficiencies. For example, when
the rain is done falling, the mountains are never flooded unlike the valleys; while the sun beats the mountains, the valleys are enriched of its lack.
You can stand on the mountaintop and behold a glimpse of the world's kingdoms and its many glories but to see the mountain peak
from the valleys remains impossible.
So picture this:
You are standing on the mountaintop with soothing sounds of beautiful birds chirping in the hollow before you transcending gravity and humanity. Doves, sparkling white as ever, ascend out of the darkness beneath. Then wonder strikes of such beauty found in such a place? Is it a force of darkness clothed like the angel of light or the real deal?
Can the
messiah be from the least tribe of Israel or we are our own saviors?
All these are possibilities but I yearn to latch hold of the very last. Let it all be gone and I'm human again. Loneliness overwhelms! Reality sets in! I am not of my own! Life is of pure design and the creator I seek!
It may be a lost shot but I'd rather hope and lose than not hope at all.
Doves in the valley!
Beloved can you see?
The creator, defying
deaths for three days, ascend up from abysmal depths to save thee!
