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Painful Plains
On the edge of decision. Traversing across will require precision and endurance I don’t feel I possess. Test after test after test. All I see for miles is a small stretch of land with another pile of rocks and sand to go over or around. It will surely slow and wear me down. Like following a dashed line of trouble, a short respite then I stumble on the next spire that blocks my view. I need you to navigate me through this bad land that, from this vantage point, seems to go on longer than it should. Orienting not by what shifts underfoot but by what you have set that is sure. Help me endure. (John 16:33; Romans 5:3-5)
In June of 2019, we parked our RV home on an overlook to the Badlands in South Dakota, quite literally on the edge of a significant drop-off. It was overwhelming how beautiful, dangerous, and discouraging a landscape could be. Named Mako Sica by the Lakota people who lived in this area—“land bad.” I have since wanted to capture those lime green fields dotted with the sandy white and rose rocks that were scattered in neatly formed lines and falling into pattern all the way to the horizon.