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Last night, as I was trying to settle into sleep, an image popped into my mind that would not fade:
I was looking down a road that stretched out into the distance. I noticed the legs of an animal sitcking out from shrubbery and brush along one side. At first I thought it was a deer, the limbs were long and lean. As I began to see more, I realized it was horse, lying on its side, dead.
I shared the vision with my husband, who asked "Is it still being flogged?" and I recalled the old saying about beating a dead horse.
My heart and spirit shifted and I began to weep, for all at once, I identified with the the loss of the animal. I felt the pain of the beatings and knew that there is something, once so vibrant within me, that has died.
This drives me again to the feet of my Lord, with no answers at all, but ever increasing questions.
I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2 NIV