Hands clasped tightly and two become one,

Face turned to the sky glistening with tears of joy,

White petals loosened from the flower girl's hands,

Shimmering gently on your lashes and lightly on your nose.

It is a time of commitment, decision, and hope,

A time to stick like snowflakes on gravel to where He calls you to battle,

Knowing, even still, that the war has already been won.

 

White petals falling out of her basket to remind you to stick close

To Him

And to adjust accordingly. The fire may burn your bouquet of roses

But it will not touch your elegant gown.

The snow will remain as vibrant, liquid droplets,

Flowing into the rivers, nourishing the trees.

 

So press on. An ice pick only tinkers at what possibilities

Were already present in the block.

You are all there, enveloped in the snow.

You are all here.

What a joy to know that it is never too early for snow.

 

 

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"Why, my soul, are you downcast?

Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God,

for I will yet praise him,

my Savior and my God." Psalm 42:11 (NIV)

 

Cling to God, Little One.