September 27, 2016

Harsh Winter

Overcast. The air hangs crisp. Leaves dance beyond the pane - still summer green yet they play peek-a-boo with a hint of caramel and crimson. Autumn is upon us ushering in plump pumpkins, spiced cider, scarves, boots, woolen blankets and those brilliantly colored leaves that will soon crunch under foot. It's my favorite time of year but in my corner of the world it doesn't last long.

Before I blink, the trees will stretch forth their barren limbs as white blankets the earth, and I will hibernate as much as possible. Enjoying the peaceful white from my comfortably heated home - coffee in hand. Knowing this, I always do some fall cleaning. Just like spring cleaning opens it all to new and fresh I prepare for the confinement of the dreary months ahead. I wash the windows knowing they will soon be dirty again but I want to enjoy the glistening of a winter wonderland for as long as I can.

Funny how distorted our view becomes when we're looking through layers of grime.

It's like this life - my heart.  There are seasons of new, fresh, sunshine, glorious hues, wonder and there is also the barren muddied winter.

If I allow the difficult seasons to distort my view of God I can't see the joy and blessings right in front of me.

This life is hard... it always will be. But when I allow Jesus to wash my heart and heal it's wounds... then I see through the right frame...and I discover this life is beautiful... even in the midst of a harsh winter.

Until then...

September 17, 2016

Last Days Of Summer

I shape dough - lay into pans and cover. She walks into the kitchen and peeks under the towel. She groans. Wheat. She likes white.

I ring the dinner bell, slice a loaf, and ask her to look in the cellar for some jam. Walking into the kitchen she's beaming - jar in hand. It's peach! One of her favorites. It was in the back hidden behind a sea of Apple Butter. She lets me know we're running low on the good stuff.

We sit down and she brings a spoon - no knife will do. And she piles the jam thick. Several times through the next few days I see her slice through wheat and smother with summer sweetness and I giggle. She reminds me of my grandpa.

Thankful for my precious girl.

Until then...