snowy fields

Sometimes the landscapes are in black and white with a smattering of grey.

Snow can simplify and obliterate but snow can also paint a scene dreary and lonesome.

hankering for spring

Never mind the snow blowing outside

and the subzero temperatures

and hungry coyotes wandering our street.

A splash of pink and green

in a bright blue vase

suggests spring isn't far off.

snow that is blown

The wind blows where it wills

and sculpts the fallen snow

much like the relentless waves

sculpt the sandy shores

and time and happenstance

sculpt us body and soul.

The divine breath blows

the divine words stir

and the divine hand leads.

And I try hard to remember

that it is all good.

sunday

On Sundays worship renews and encourages

and walks restore and invigorate

and woods inspire.

"Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal."

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

And when we think of daughters still comatose, and sisters taken to glory, and mothers facing an unsure prognosis we pray that our eyes may be eternal eyes. Raised in thankfulness and prayer. We pray that hearts may be lifted and that lips breathe hope: "Be Still and Know that I am God".

Be Still

and know

that

He is God!

snowflakes

morning by morning

"This is Thy faithfulness, morning by morning new mercies I see..

great is Thy faithfulness, this is my faithfulness

..morning by morning..."

Tommy and Marten sing variations of the hymn all day long.

At some point the message should sink into my heart....

January 1st 2011

One Step Of Triumph

My feet shall never stand on Everest's peak,

Nor smudge the sands of undiscovered shore.

My ears shall never hear the waters roar

Where jungle rivers fall in Mozambique.

For me, no stratospheric flights; I seek

no depths unchartered to the ocean floor.

These will come to others who explore

The geographic goals of which they speak.

Still, I have known the high discovery,

moments when exultation held my hand,

And these have come in no exotic land,

While just one step from my back porch will show

A world and year unsearched, that beckons me

To cast first print in New Year's printless snow.

Ralph W. Seager

True...

yet sometimes

we do wish to explore distant places

and today the new year's snow is new year's rain.