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Sunday, December 21, 2014

Angels Leave No Footprints In the Snow

So how

Really how...

Do we know...

There are angels about and around us. I believe it so sincerely that I promise to believe for you even if you do not. The tiny holes in the sky at twilight are merely peeking windows, for the precious souls watching over us in the best and the worst of times.

But do not be fooled into thinking that this is fantasy, for wherever you walked today, whatever path you chose, there, walking right beside you an angel, hugging their wings tightly so as not to startle you. Ah yes, perhaps you thought you heard a hummingbird’s wings or a rustle in the brush, I can assure you that it was much more significant sound, a truer bell ringing in the distant light. For though you might like to think that you are independent, strong and true, you will stumble. You will lose your way. You will miss a step or drop the key to the door you must enter.

Then, my loved ones, then the angels step in.

They raise their voices in the most glorious choir...

their song a simple refrain...

We have much to be grateful for...

You and you and you and you and you...

From Here to There and all the pinpoints of light in between...

Tonight I pray, that you will let a child lead you...

To a place where peace and joy no longer out of reach..

Come into your heart and rest for a long long while.

Do not tell yourself that there is no room in the inn.

There will always be a resting place for you the garden.

Your flight is cancelled...fear not. Angel wings will fly you home.

Snowdrifts block the road and you feel trapped.

No, there is a beacon in the dark.

Follow it. Follow it to where only your faithful footsteps may lead you.

There is nothing, mind you, no obstacle, no grief so great, so separation so wide, no hill so high that you cannot climb over.

Rush if you must, into the waiting arms of those you love and those who love you in return.

The garden is covered in snow, ‘tis true. The trees cast a giant shadow in the forest. The days are short and the light is fleeting. But if you rub your feet into the soil, there lie the tiny souls silently sleeping, patiently waiting for the coming of the season.

A gardener, you see, is patient and kind. A gardener knows that beneath the snow, the cold and harshness of winter, lie the dormant shoots of Spring. The yet unborn. The seeds of an idea, the chance of a new beginning.

Be ye patient. Be ye kind.

What has yet to be revealed will come in its own time. 

And while you wait, while you yearn for summer sun, be grateful that the snow is a gentle blanket keeping the Earth warm, incubating the next generation of gardens and flowers waiting to unfurl their blossoms.

It is a time to rejoice.

For as everything must end, it too will soon begin again.

The cycle of life is a perfect circle.

And it all begins in the garden...won’t you come and sit for awhile?

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