by Sharon Rondeau
(Oct. 20, 2023) — It appeared He wouldn’t come this year.
With pummeling rains all summer bringing floods, more rain and wind through the fall, so many were torn from their summertime perches only to be flung to the ground to meet an unceremonious end as torn, brown shadows of their former selves, deprived of their rightful place on God’s customary autumn canvas.
Prematurely stripped of their vestments, wooden sentinels both young and old became nothing but a reminder of the long winter ahead and the death of so much in the world.
Then for weeks the entire landscape, it seemed, turned yellow, a muted shade lacking luster or any indication of what should have been a joyous season, as the rains continued to fall.
The usual peak between October 10 and 14 came and went without the splashes of orange, crimson and even purple many likely take for granted, coinciding with heinous events half a world away and horrific suffering few could ever comprehend.
We call upon Him to comfort and strengthen those victimized, to reunify families and bring His light, if He still can, to a shattered world infested with evil.
But just as the darkness was at its height, the light began to come through. The sun reappeared after what seemed an interminable absence, the strokes of God’s paintbrush were suddenly there for all to see, and two innocents, today, were released.
Was God’s handiwork there all along, but we were unable to see it?
