The Freshness

Snow is amazing--it really is. For those that know me well, you know that snow and I are not on good terms since I turned 14. It was then that I got horses and the magic of winter was lost in hauling 20lb water buckets from the barn into the kitchen 2 or 3 times a day because the hose was frozen over. Or dealing with our shop and the horse stalls that flood all the time. Or broken fences because of a storm. Or living all the way out here "20 miles of nowhere" as someone once said, and the roads are so icy no one comes over and we don't really venture out much. The latter is still a problem, but this year I am thoroughly enjoying my life without horses. Serioulsly. Sure, they were wonderful and God used them in a big way in my life. (That is NO understatememt either...really) But all that said, I have fallen in love with winter all over again. It's still not my ideal (I am convinced I am in need of a warmer climate!) but there is something very magical and romantic about the white freshness covering the ground. Don't believe me? Here is an exerpt from a story a friend and I are writing. It's basically about a girl that went through a life changing event and is learning how to trust God all over again. Many of us can relate to "her" and so I thought I'd share it with all of you. I was inspired while waiting for the snow (of which we got like 15 inches!) and listening to this. So to "set the mood" hit play and read on...be blessed!




She looks out the window at the snow falling softly, blanketing the world in white. Looking back it hardly seemed real. She felt as if she was on the outskirts looking inside. Almost a whole year had passed since it all began and she was at a loss for words. It would have been almost silly if it wasn't real, but the sharp ache inside her heart told her it was. And so she steps outside for a brief moment. The freshness taking her breath away. Fresh like this new beginning in her life. Fresh like her heart the King had made new. In the stillness she could hear her heart beating. The echo of her soull resounding. The King is here, the King is here, the King is here. And He was.