It was a surreal scene - like an ancient cathedral blasted by some cataclysmic, time stopping event, one lone devotee left standing in its last act, its stony slabs of arms lifted oddly amidst uncertainty and the harshness of winter, its chiseled head, perhaps questioning, tilted curiously heavenward.
I was reminded of the ancient Hebrew text found with the Dead Sea Scrolls in Qumran and written by the prophet Habakkuk more than two thousand years ago, "Though the fig tree isn't budding and the grape vines are bare; though the olive crop fails and the fields and gardens aren't producing any food; though there are no sheep in the pen or cattle in the stalls, YET.......I will continue to rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The sovereign Lord is my strength, He makes my feet like the feet of a deer, He enables me to climb high into the mountains..........." (Habakkuk 3:17-19)
I don't know why faith and hope aren't easier, why understanding is so elusive. But, I do know that amidst times of both joy and unspeakable adversity, my path is to trust in my God with unswerved hope and devotion - even if it becomes my last act.