I stared out over the forest around and below me, as the majesty of the sun rose above the horizon and lit up the land with its fiery light. This was my favorite place to watch the glory of my Creator's sun rise upon the Earth. Morning mist rising off the river below sparkled brightly, as the sun increasing in its power began to burn the mist away from the land. Bald eagles soared off of their lofty perches only to then plunge downward toward the cold waters of the river that teamed with fish.
Warmed by the risen sun, the chill of the night finally left my bones. It was a new morning still fresh with promise. I pulled the dog-eared Bible from my pocket and opening it I began to read about the Israelites entering the promise land. I came to the account of the spies sent to spy out the land and with the biblical account of that I came upon my namesake, Caleb.
My mother had always been taken by the Old Testament hero and so she had named me for him, Caleb Longtree. It was a lot to live up to and I had tried, but I didn't think that I had managed to measure up in God's eyes the way that the original Caleb had. If I had, surely my life would have been more blessed like his had been? My wife had died giving birth to my firstborn son. My son had died in a war that no one even cared of or knew anything about. My daughter-in-law was a silly drunken sort of a woman I could not stand to be around and my granddaughter was lost in the rebelliousness of the ways of the world. Surely in comparison to the biblical Caleb I was cursed where he had been blessed.
I had spent all my days seeking to live by honor and yet at sixty four years of age I was left without any joy to call my own. What had the purpose of it all been? I was feeling sorry for myself again, which was wrong, as I had plenty to be grateful for, but in this moment it was hard to remember those things, when the torment of what I didn't have was so great.
Would it ever get better or would the long slide downhill just continue?
There didn't seem to be any answer forthcoming from beyond the heavens and so I sat there in a bitter sort of solitude missing out on the beauty of the unfolding spring morning. Try as I might I could not find anything with which to motivate myself that things would ever get better. Realizing the depth of my depression I sank off my rocky seat onto my knees, as my hands folded together. My lips fumbled in a prayer, in search of release from the oppression that I felt that I was under.