February 05, 2011
After the Storm - by Glynis M. Belec
God sent me a message of hope this morning. The fleece that I had begged Him for was hopping daintily amid the rotting apples at the base of the ancient tree. I saw a robin. A downy, red-breasted creature, with feathers fluffed, pecking in earnest at the decaying fruit. It was a brilliant contrast to the milky, white snow.
The storm had passed. For two days, the buses were halted. Roads were closed and virtually all modes of transportation had been postponed.
Today the sun-kissed snow banks cover any hint that spring will soon be making her obligatory debut. It is February. Spring does not usually happen here for another two months.
I gaze upon my lovely-feathered friend as it samples the fallen fruit. I think about my visit with God. Divine appointments, I have discovered, rely not on my own schedule but solely on God’s timing.
Earlier this morning I felt that old familiar 3am nudge. I fought at first for the night was chilly and I did not want to forfeit the warmth of my cozy bedclothes.
Another prod from God startled me into consciousness. I immediately knew that I had to pay attention. I had been struggling with some issues on trust and spiritual surrender. I was experiencing a despair that seemed insurmountable.
I managed to maneuver my way in the darkness and avoided the pile of newspapers that had slid haphazardly from my bed. My husband’s rhythmical, inspiratory wheezing indicated that I was not interrupting his slumber.