The snow is deep enough to ski.
I could not ski today.
The cold is mild enough to enjoy.
I could not enjoy today.
The sun was just bright enough to shine through the trees.
I could not take time to see the sun.
Its November only, already deep winter and I need to prepare …
And have little to prepare with, but much to prepare for … maybe.
What I did have is lumber scavenged from a garbage dump, solid 2×4’s 10’ and some 2×6 of various lengths.
And pallets that I pulled apart to use the light 4’ pieces as horizontal supports
For a shelter, an anteroom outside the door, for wood heat to be figured into,
For there is coming a wood stove.
A gift to compensate for the lack of money for propane.
A back up.
A plan to use wood
For warmth when the propane gives out or the furnace takes leave again.
Or just when.
It’s a new beginning, not much of one, and it has a long road between today and the use of wood for heat.
So I did take time to see the sun rise … well to see the light of day break in.
And I noticed I am hardly alone in making a new beginning.
A seedling makes its fifth winter
I’m just in the end cycle days, instead of the start-up days.
More like the grass that is here one day and gone the next.
May the last days be many,
Filled with awe-filled wonders,
And great light,
The light of the world,
The King’s light,
The cracks in us to reveal the healing wonder of the Holy Spirit.
May your new beginnings be worth the price
We all pay for choices
The exact meaning and cost for which we can hardly know when we make the choices.
But choice we have, the basics of love.
Which is no guarantee that the force of evil will not mow us down long before our long fifth winter.
Still God stands by
Engaged in helping us withstand the trials
And assaults on our being,
Consequences of choosing other than love.
But God does not end the assaults or trials, the consequences,
Nor cures the illness that is the cause.
As the seedling, we have the possibilities to grow strong,
And wave at the wind, the blowing of the Spirit.
There are no guarantees, just chocolates, of which we never know what we will get.
Thanks to the Forest.