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That long shining cloak
I know that cloak, that long shiny cloak that birthed hope in me, that long white cloak that gave me purpose and a reason to live again. I know of that cloak that wiped away my afflictions and invited in hope and salvation. If I could a chance, I would hold on and not let go. If you called me out tonight, I would answer and follow the light, that light coming from the mighty shining cloak, up the steps and down into the deep. Show me tomorrow; carry me away in your sweeping grace. Someday my journey shall come to an end and I shall know that I never travelled in vain. We shall all know that the barefoot journey on a pebble-filled road was not in vain. I shall follow that long shining cloak through the valley of darkness and death. I shall walk alongside my refuge and tuck in when the night is too dark. I shall cling to it when I feel like the end has come and I shall be made new. I believe in the long shining cloak and someday I shall get to bridge the gap between me and hope. Someday I shall get to close the space between darkness and glory. Someday I shall try to reconcile the lost with the found, whisper a prayer for the dumb and answer to the deaf. Someday I shall follow the long shining cloak and I shall not look back till I am one with home, that place up the hill where souls get to rest when the day is done. If the journey gets so dark that I can’t see, I sure hope that you shall light my path. When my journey’s over I am going home. It is my prayer that the long shining cloak, that covering of light that drapes you one day covers me, and I shall fear no more. I know that I’m far in the wilderness, too far from hope and not any close to an oasis but at the end of the tunnel there is light, ignited by the long white cloak. For though I am parched, I know my thirst shall be quenched. For though I fear, I know somebody shall pat my back and tell me everything’s fine. I believe in that long white cloak, the cloak worn by the stranger of Galilee, the punctured cloak that took my beatings and my blame, that cloak that tore into pieces so I could find hope. That cloak that they never tire to clean no matter how much I trample it down. I know that long, shining cloak that lit the candle when the night was thick, and taught me how to see again.

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