Different Roads

And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten...
—Joel 2:25 KJV

I'm still stuck on the past and how it gets lost in the present—or embeds itself in the now. How can it be lost when the threads of events twist themselves into today? Certain aromas thrust me into rewinding an old reel and watching an event unfold. I am in the kitchen watching my grandmother cook or holding my nose when I climb the stairs and a cloud of cabbage descends and envelopes me like a cloak.

What about those memories that can't be eradicated—no white out, no eraser—they too remain part of the present? So the present is present with a long trail that extends back and back.

And I will restore... finish, make good, be at peace, put together what is torn or broken...
the years...the revolution of time...

In context the verse refers to both a physical restoration—for the people—and a spiritual reprieve.

But this verse is meant for each one of us. It's a promise of restoration.A refurbishment for some, a renovation, a release from guilt.

For years I prayed that an estranged family member could walk one step toward an open hand. Nothing happened. It was as if my prayers hit a ceiling and fell down.

Recently the connection with her daughter changed—the beginning of a gap appeared, a fissure, a rent in their relationship.

My prayer has altered. I pray for a mending and strengthening of that bond. The answer to that prayer will be a restoration of the years that the locust hath eaten.

It's a different path than expected—