The Colors of Winter

December 2011

Naked oaks
crunchy brown leaves
a deck of wood slats
and green moss on the north side of things.
A hint of yellow left
from a Fall that has said goodbye
and will not return for yet a little while.
A heavy wood gate.
Closed.
A dog barks in the cold and gray.
Cottage bricks rounded and shaped
strong and old clinging together
with mortar from ages past.
Steps to the porch.
Cold window panes.
Doors ornate with Christmas wreaths.
Lighted trees glowing, reflecting.
Sweet ornaments with
last year's photographs of children's faces
framed in delicately knitted circles.
Red, green
The colors of Winter.
There's a welcome here.
Chimney smoke
the fragrance of wood burning.
Sparks on a hearth.
Holly Noel—the perfect Christmas name.
A good cup of coffee
the taste of caramel.
A verse for the day.
A quiet moment.
Fellowship.
Joy divine.
To lean, depend.
Mercy drops and
Grace in abundance.
And the coveted Gift of Hospitality
freely shared.

What more could a great-grandmother desire?

Jane Bennett Gaddy
Trinity, FL

Comments

It was Over... The South Was Defeated

Isaac Payne rode with the last of his company to Appomattox on April 10 with no inkling of what to expect. He waited outside the perimeter. Enlisted men were not allowed to be present on the streets of the Courthouse area. Only commanding officers. Isaac was emaciated, just like all the other southern patriots who leaned hard against the white picket fence that surrounded the township. Tired, empty, and disheartened, they waited to know the end of the story. One man could scarcely be identified from the next. They all looked the same. Withered and wasted. Isaac dismounted and patted Glory. She was his only earthly possession besides his weapons. His only connection to home. He gripped the bridle and pressed his face to her thin neck, unconsciously rubbing his hand over her protruding bones. If he looked up in the distance he might see his father and brother riding the dusty road to Appomattox to join him, but how could that be? They were dead. The thought of their absence and ...

On The Cusp—

John 14:6 I am the way … Jesus sat with his disciples, giving them the most pleasant of instructions—instructions that concerned the state of the heart, though the human heart, apart from Christ, cannot be trusted. Jeremiah described it as “… deceitful above all things and desperately wicked …” (17:9). But Jesus told the disciples in John 14:1: “Let not your heart be troubled …” He had spent the better part of three years with these men, and for some reason when He began that day to linger on going away and heaven and things prepared, Thomas just didn’t get it. He doubted and wondered and pondered and questioned: “How will we get to the Father’s House?” and “How on earth are we going to know the way?” Imagine being there yourself as Jesus arrested thoughts...

Solitude

Likely we have never understood the truth of solitude until now, in the Year of our Lord 2020. A season of enigmatic suffering, seclusion, fear. We hear stories of the elderly dying alone. There can be no funeral, just burial. We hear of refrigeration trucks being used as morgues to hold the bodies until they can be disposed of. Sadness and loneliness hover over the epicenter of our once untouchable city where literally thousands are dying—Alone. At least, we thought it was invincible— Our Savior considered that and more when He cried, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46). It makes perfect sense that God had to turn His back on Jesus at the Cross, because a Holy God cannot look upon sin, and in those moments on the Cross, Jesus "became" sin for us that we might be made righteous through His shed Blood. In all of that, of course, the God-Man was—Alone. For He (God) hath made Him (Jesus) to be sin for us, Who knew no sin...

Search This Blog