Sometimes you’ll find you are standing, and you look around, and it appears to be just you and your shadow. You’ll reach right. Left. Back. Waving your hands a bit wildly in the vacant space and land on nothing. Sometimes you will be praying and asking and trying and crying and gasping for just a small life line. For a breath. Pleading for God to give you a tiny break. Your friends are far. Your support has backed off. And you are standing. A lone reed.
And in this instant you realize how drastically you’re situation has changed. Maybe all you want most in the world is to conform and blend and be lost in the crowd of ordinary.
But you know that isn’t where you belong. And because there is this silence, a space has formed to make room for a way to hear. Hear you do. And your perspective changes.
You look down and notice your legs are strong. You look over and see you’re surrounded by a quiet that is less silent and more peaceful. A quiet that has enough space between the pages to actually feel like God’s whisper is jumping off the page and landing in the depths of your soul.
It’s in this moment that you catch a glimpse of that shadow once more. It is here you realize your shadow looks nothing like this one. And you start to question out loud, “is that my shadow after all?”
And you don’t even have to wait for a response. You know. You recognize. You feel. That’s Jesus’ shadow. He’s here. He’s been here. You are not alone. You are never alone. You are standing side by side and he knows you.