Terror! Confusion! Fie!

The white stuff is back! 

And it brought reinforcements!! 

Who will save us!?

(Ohhh, the humanity!)

He's The Man

"I love you more..."

My husband capriciously said this to me the other day. It brought me up short because I realized I didn't believe I could honestly deny it. I've had this thought before, that my husband has leveled-up ahead of me in the love department. And when I don't just brush past that uncomfortable thought, I'm forced to own up to old inadequacies and scars that I'd much rather forget.

Before, After, and Always: Amen

"For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counseller, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6


"And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'" Luke 2:10-14

Glory

It's unendingness soothes me.
To look out to the horizon, where the water kisses the sky, understanding that in no way is it an ending; it's just as far as my weak and limited eyes can see. There is something of glory in knowing that I can't take it all in. I can't fit it inside parameters. I can't make it small enough to understand. There is such beauty in the vastness.

Not much can compare to looking out into infinity. I want to cry at my smallness; laugh at its absurd bigness; I want to run headlong into it and get utterly, utterly lost in its rightness. This is what heaven feels like.

I often wonder if I would feel the same were I out far enough to lose sight of land. Would the loss of my grounding panic me? Would my breath hitch, my heart stutter at the uncertainty? (Yet how can I fear heaven? The unknown is frightening, but the result divine.)

Another part of me though, a greater part, longs for just that. To be completely alone in the swell of the sea, with only expanse, above and below, for company. 

Peace

                            

This is my daily commute. Every morning, and every evening coming home, the sun rises and sets over wide open fields, a tree-lined horizon, and massive expanses of just sky, sky, sky. There is, after all, something to be said of living in the middle of nowhere.