At times harsh realities
blow on my door,
grief and disappointment
rain down in icy pellets,
clouds cover my soul,
dull and dreary.
An afghan around my shoulders,
I wander to the window
and look outside.
The raw cold of winter
is at hand,
and nature has gone to sleep.
The earth that nourishes roots
is hard and unyielding.
Yet I notice something else.
A blanket is provided
to protect the roots
and living things
throughout this season
of harshness.
Snow blankets the earth,
insulating the soil.
Moss carpets the forest floor,
providing a warm place
for insects and fungi.
Pine needles and leaves
are strewn over the ground,
prepared in advance
for winter.
And I wonder,
are blankets provided for me
when raw and cold times
are at hand?
What do I have
to protect my heart,
my spirit,
from hard things?
I look around and notice
a kind note from a friend,
an email containing wise counsel,
a home shared with those who love me.
Satisfying work awaits on my desk,
and a good book is ready for my leisure.
A sun ray peeps through a cloud,
turning old snow
into glittering beauty.
All of these physical things are good,
filling my insides with warmth
like a bowl of soup.
But it doesn't compare
to the protection,
the covering of grace,
poured out for me through
His sacrifice,
blanketing my soul during trials
of all kinds,
filling me with hope
for a joy-warmed
eternity.
I drop the blanket from my shoulders.
Let the wind blow,
the snow fall,
the frost cover the earth.
I am covered,
blanketed with love.
Follow Karen's Blog