I Open a River in the Desert

My son, my daughter, I know this season feels like a real desert — dry, repetitive, with no sign of change in any direction, with the feeling of walking in circles without getting anywhere, spending energy without seeing results. A desert wears a person down in a way that isn't always easy to explain to others.

But I chose that very image, desert and wilderness, to make you a concrete promise: where there seems to be absolutely nothing, I lay down a visible path. Where the ground is dry and cracked, I make a river spring up from a place no one expected. My power doesn't need good conditions to act — it shows up exactly in the dryness you're walking through right now, without waiting for better circumstances first.

Keep walking, even without strength to spare. The desert will not last forever, even if it feels endless from inside it, and the river I promised is already being formed behind the scenes, even if your eyes can still only see sand to the horizon.