(This is a short story I started many years ago based on Luke 4:40. It is meant to provide hope for those in desperate situations, even “when the sun is setting…” It will be published in several parts.)
Preface: The Penultimate Night
I cannot forbid the lateness of this hour. I cannot seem to finish another mile. My life has become nothing but a silhouette masked by my disappointments and shame. So much is said of the beauty of the setting sun, that it is a wonder to behold and evidence of the peace available at the end of the day. But I am weary of these kinds of proclamations for I have come to fear the shadows of the evening. The hope of the innocent is not mine; their simple faith is unknown by me. My heart could never be that uncomplicated. I am a victim of my own thought, of expectations far beyond my reach, and failures omnipresent.
I am great in need, even greater in desire. I am traveling from place to place with desperation as my motivation and worry as my adrenaline. My strength is fallible at best and I am searching for something I cannot fully understand, something I cannot seem to find. For so long the sun blinded me in the heat and frustration of the day. The humidity has now made its exit but not without marking my brow. If healing and freedom are potential realities, my soul can only dream of them- and has done so for more years than I can remember. My one recourse is to surrender to the chill of another evening alone and welcome the arriving rain, with only my longings to fill my soul and the routine nightmares to keep me warm.