It’s the dead of winter here in wild and wonderful West Virgina
and while I appreciate the Winter wonderland, I must confess
my Alabama roots beckon me.
I’m still a flatlander at heart, especially this time of year.
I still love the view from
my kitchen table as snowflakes
fall brightening the landscape
and backdrop of the mountains.
Cardinals, doves, and snow buntings
are a welcomed delight as my husband
and I feast on the beauty God paints for us.
Yet I long for warmer temps and flat lands this time of the year.
This morning I came across an old poem reminding me how blessed I am…
no matter where I live or whatever season I find myself in.
The quiet of the morning spent with my bible and journal
takes me to a place that fills the deeper longing of my soul.
The psalmist said it best.
As the deer pants for the…
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