Monday: Clinging

For this is God, our God forever and ever; He will be our Guide even to death.

Psalms 34:14


Sandhill crane’s have turned a snowy gray with feathers fluffed. It’s migration time. Skies are burden with dense, dark, dreary clouds. November is well on its way. Trees stand and sway in late autumn’s cold breeze. Crisp leaves tumble on hard ground. The air is brisk and chilled. Autumn is passing.

I trek down my empty country road hoping for the rising sun. Winter jacket, heavy boots and cozy hat are my accessories. Seasons are changing, once again, in my little area of the world. Things are different as winter sneaks in to begin the holidays.

It is here among the last oak leaves, that are still clinging to trees, I find solace. Sturdy trees which grasp long and tight to their leaves. Almost in slow motion while rapid changes occur. After a few months pass, they too will drop their leaves.

Am I like that? Like a mighty oak tree clinging to something. Am I grounded in rich earth? Or am I shaken by the struggles of life’s storms and changes?

I then remember, we only walk through this world for a little while. When frigid times come I want to be as those oak trees still holding on to what they believe is theirs. I want to remember, through all things, God is with me and I am His.

P. Wolf; author & poet

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