Minus 10C here in the northeast. Frost turns the fields rock
hard. On the barbed wire, a strand of grass waves stiffly in the growing wind.
Frozen. Formerly flexible, but in the icy blast, frozen and hard. Brittle.
Easily broken.
Circumstances can plunge our lives into arctic atmospheres
that freeze our spirits in fear or anxiety. Long years can make our spirits
brittle too, easily offended, easily bruised, easily broken.
The Son brings life, brings warmth, thaws what is frozen and
softens hard hearts. It’s easy to get caught in an unexpected, icy blast but
today I choose to bathe in the sun of righteousness.
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