I walked down a slope at dusk.
I could smell the moist air as I descended into a wooded ravine.
It was so dark.
Each step my uncertainty grew and my wits were no longer vivid.
I was losing my assurance as the light of day was being extinguished.
Fear grew.
This valley was littered with the bones and the echoes of the screams of previous lonely travelers.
I moved forward because turning back offered no benefit.
I knew where I came from would only offer the same pitch. The same dark. The same odor.
There was faint familiarity.
It was as if I had traveled this valley and these shadows for eternity.
I was becoming terrified.
While I had been here most often in my journey, fear and uncertainty still prevailed.
I began to mutter to God.
I need refuge.
I need strength.
I heard a snap in the trees.
A soft hand emerged and gently and lovingly embraced mine.
It was comfort.
I was no longer alone.
I was still scared.
Yet,
The journey now seemed manageable because I was not alone.
I muttered to the faceless person who was comforting me.
“I’m scared.”
The comforter replied, “I am too but I’ve got you.”
I responded, “And I’ve got you.”
Then a small light lit our steps while our path remained as dark as a black wall.
With each step, we were now more sure.
The journey seemed still and endless.
The crunch of the ground could barely be heard over the shrills of dying, uncertainty, and loneliness of those before and those yet to come.
I ask God for strength and in the light next to our feet sat two cups.
We drank them both only to find they were full again.
We pressed on with the caress of our palms and fingers interlaced.
Days passed.
Weeks passed.
The night was unrelenting.
Yet the light and water gave us enough for each illuminated guide to our feet.
Many steps expired and many more steps prevailed.
The light began to grow and the terrain started to elevate steeply.
We both began to lose focus on each other as the path began to illuminate increasingly.
As we rose from the depths our gratitude grew.
Our fears subsided.
We were rising.
There was light.
We weren’t out of the woods yet.
But we were getting there at an ever-increasing rate.
The sky began to fill with light.
We emerged from the shadows and the fear and smell of death into a beautiful field.
We were exhausted as we entered a warm sun-soaked land as bright as a summer noon.
In the field, was a table full of food.
We stopped while having yet to see each other.
The two strangers' hands rejoin.
Comfort was united with celebration.
I cried to God with gratitude.
As I paused my praise, I realized I hadn’t seen my fellow traveler whose skin and touch assured me it was God's light at my feet.
My eyes turned from the table feast and the sun-soaked field to the face of my strange yet familiar companion.
When our eyes met, I knew why this person gave me solace in the valley of chaos and calamity.
It made sense now because that person wasn’t a stranger.
It was a gift from God designed at the formation of the earth.
It was you.
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