When Aragorn met the hobbits, he didn’t expect his life would change from the Lone Ranger to the King of Gondor.

Such is destiny.

Despite walking the other side, the pull of gravity towards solid rock is unbeatable and without compare.

Such also is destiny.

When there’s a homing beacon that was once buried in the sheets of ice comes alive, one just doesn’t ignore the signs. Some of them went back by 13+ years, few memories went back to when I was younger than 13, but one thing was inevitable- the beacons of Gondor had been lit.

As the Psalmist with outstretched arms says – my help comes from the one who made the heavens and the earth, like the loud cry of Aragorn at the battle of Morannon, like how the birds wait for their next feed- so do I look up to the heavens.

There must have been a spot of faith in each of these characters.. an aorta of belief, as small as a mustard seed which was enough to tide over the battle and gain victory.

As the day wakes up in its pace, as the swirling black and the wisps weave memories in and around, the eyes look ye upward for help, while the bended knee acknowledges in gratitude for the diamond in the rough.

Enough with the curve balls. Much has been paid. In hope do we trust. In trust do we pray. And in prayer do we believe.

As the wheels of the bus go round and round, the spade that digs just broke another sheet of ice.


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