Ours is a winter house.
Sifting snow settles on walls, woods, and roofs, insulating us from the sorrows and fears of the ordinary, blanketing us instead in contemplation of the still, silent, humble Divine. Contemplation leads to discovery of the quiet without and the quiet within; the wisdom without and the wisdom within; the beauty without and the beauty within.
Evening darkness persuades Tracy to come home early from school, upon which he is quickly and cheerfully recruited to assist in the shuttling of snacks to the Solanus Center for our friends from First Call Lutheran Theological Conference.
Frosty ground and nightfall persuade Just Bob to abandon his outdoor work in favor of work that is, perhaps, less interesting, but certainly no less worthy: running blankets through the Tank and the extractor. Jain and Jackie H., nestled cozily in their respective homes for the night, no doubt exhale a grateful sigh of relief at being reprieved from the nearly impossible task of hefting blankets from the Tank, which has no spin cycle, into the extractor, which sounds like a chorus of airplane engines preparing for takeoff. Just Bob is unfazed by the heft and the havoc, leaning casually on the industrial-sized gas dryer, patiently waiting for the extractor to finish extracting.
And our evening prayer rises like incense in Your sight, O Lord, dissipating our worries into the night, while transmitting our care for the hungry, the homeless, the marginalized around the world in an embrace of solidarity.
Night falls, peace descends, rest ensues.