A Confession of Sorts

I sit wrapped in a blanket made from some of my great grandfather's old shirts and handkerchiefs. I am watching it snow. Snow, like the ocean, has a great calming effect on me. As I sit under this blanket I wonder if I will know a love so intimate that it would give me opportunity to make blankets out of his old shirts. I hold back tears as “what if’s” and “could have been’s” rattle in my heart, while my head is grateful for the God orchestrated path my life has taken.

The snow outside my window drops in big, wet flakes and yet it isn’t really accumulating. I wonder if this is how manna looked. The tree-sitting cardinal is having a difficult time disguising itself, surrounded by all the white. And although he is my nemesis, he is very beautiful this morning. Maybe this is a good picture for temptation—it’s my nemesis but it does look beautiful.

This snow is for me. Soon my day will begin and crazy things I am unaware of will happen. But for a brief moment my sad soul is quiet and still. The mantra I chose to breathe in sounds like this “Abba, I trust You. Abba, I trust You.” And although I feel like I am as exposed as the cardinal in the tree, I pray for my arms to be held high and my heart to be abandoned to the One who gave it all…for me.

After all--it's the blanket of His love I am wrapped in and it is more intimate than the love of my great grandparents.