Thoughts on Genesis 28-32

My cup is empty.
My honey and manna have run out in the desert lands.
From where does my help come?
I seek the pastures and sweet waters alongside the flock- where is the hallowed promised ground?

Perhaps I could take Jacob’s hand, or he mine, and we could return to the ladder together.
I could hear with my own ears the promises of old from the tongue of the Holy.
I would sit at the tender hip of he who wrestled until daybreak, that I may see God.

To lean my weakened body against the anciently oiled stones while the twice-renamed second-born gazes in similar wonder –
every tear blotted out while the Everlasting’s mercies spread through my veins as I turn my face to the dwelling place.

To dust I will return, for the glory of the God of Isaac.
I will sleep in the starlight and tread boldly in the wilderness, for the glory of the promise spoken from the ladder.