february 12

Fields lay barren and stalks stand short,

skies hang gray and skeletal trees reach tall.

Souls feel bereft and spirits seem to search,

Hope suspended and arms reach heavenward.

Even hearts feel winter

when faith feels disconnected.

Through the curtain, by a strangers hospital bed, a young pastor reads.

Psalm 102. We listen, quietly, moved.

"My days are like a shadow that lengthens,

and I wither away like grass....

Yes, they will grow old like a garment;

like a cloak you will change them,

and they will be changed.

But You are the same,

And Your years will have no end".

And at the end of our days God is there.

And when hearts feel disconnected He is there.

Always and forever.

And spring lies quietly beneath winter's cloak.