as i sat here in my humble quiet place, i watched the darkness of early morning slowly reach forth her indigo fingers and unwrinkle her marmalade coverings. all of my surroundings opened up their graces and invited me to drink the cup of peace. and so, like any polite guest would do, i accepted. putting the cup to my lips the steam curled around my nose and bridged the divisive silence i shoved between god and myself. the liquid of tranquility streamed down my throat, melting away the heavy yoke of loneliness and distrust i've been carrying for three months and settled at the center of my being.
gazing out the windows i took notice of the ways in which the world simply rested under the layers of freshly fallen snow. the trees and flowerbeds, summertime chairs and the outdoor fireplace understood with complete acceptance that for the next 4 months they will have to remain, under the hand of winter. no resistance - just a full comprehension of the season and a trust that they will have their time, once again, to utilize their gifts. i wanted to live like them. the trees and flowerbeds i mean. nestling deeper into my couch and pulling my blanket to my chin i opened the sacred words of god and found the literary invitation that nature's cup previously provided.
"be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the lord". - psalm 31:24