All other ground is sinking sand

This evening I learned that something I particularly love is going away. A gift given to me a time of emptiness. I knew I treasured it, but I was suprised when my eyes welled with tears. Certainty is not promised us. Water and rest on a journey are to be enjoyed and then memories of them packed up as reminders of provision. We go on. Another place of plenty will be given again when we need it. We go on without the certainty in peace because we trust. Not in the provision, but in the provider. So, I travel on with a remembrance of sustanance to tuck away in my heart. Knowing I will have enough.