Solu – Make the road smooth

Incomplete. Too often, discontent is a message from a loving God. It’s one of those messages that makes it awfully hard to remember to look to God while it is being delivered. The birds of the hollow are squawking. That’s not the problem. The black and gray feral cat is back, and she is hungry.

Vessels of clay

4 p.m. Tuesday March 28, 2023. 58F/15C. The ground of the wet meadow is still soft from soaking up the waters of the flood. Mounds of leaf debris have been trampled by wildlife. Autumn’s leaves are decaying nicely into soil, feeding the new growth the rises up from beneath. Clumps of green, growing in circles

Yeshua’s people will not be alone

2 p.m. Sunday March 26, 2023. 71F/21C. Along the path to the creek, twenty feet from the banks, is a large stack of leaf debris and pine needles. It is a sign of how far the water wandered from the bed two days ago. The cabin was on an island in the midst of storm

It will all happen rapidly

12:30 p.m. Friday March 24, 2023. 58F/15C. Rapid. About twenty minutes after the first trip outdoors, the rain slowed. A loud roar remained. It almost sounds like a train laboring through the hollow. The creek, easily visible from the cabin porch, has swollen to ten times its usual size. A swift stream runs across the

He silences accusations

6 p.m. Tuesday March 21, 2023. 41F/5C. Done. Daffodils still stand, their bright yellow blooms drooping only slightly in the chill air. Charcoal gray branches of the tall trees remain bare, their structures clearly demonstrated before the pale sky. It is a day for the large birds to soar gracefully, searching for mice and fish

Prophecy

5 p.m. Sunday March 19, 2023. 42F/6C. Hankering. Jet planes roar across the skies of the hollow in repeating patterns. Today, they emit a clear exhaust that causes bitter cold to fall on the forest. A flock of yellow finches flutters about the edge of the forest. Red leaves still dangle from many of the

Worth it

6:30 p.m. Wednesday March 15, 2023. 49F/9C. Chilled. The temperature is dropping below what seemed possible earlier. It is not an evening for lingering outside. A finch visited the bird feeder today in the daylight hours. It was the first of such to visit since the feeder went up. The golden feral cat has gone

Doing God’s will

9 p.m. Sunday March 12, 2023. 44F/7C. Dark. There are no small animals scampering within the light of the porch. Only the howling of wolves may be heard. There are maybe three different voices of wolves, but one may only be a farm dog. The golden feral cat is no where in sight. Calling for

Make me a vessel

5 p.m. Saturday March 11, 2023. 43F/6C. Unknown. Cold burns right through a long sleeved shirt, a cotton undershirt and a jacket. It is as if the cold descends from above with a set task of making the inhabitants of the hollow colder than they already are. The creek has that low rumble of being

What’s in a name?

1:30 p.m. Thursday March 2, 2023. 56F/13C. Pain. There’s no sense in walking in farther than the mailbox on a swollen ankle. Chill air wants a jacket. A golden feral cat follows emitting a coarse mew every few steps. He is happier to have the human return to the cabin. The human is happier with

Being a participant in God’s plan

10 p.m. Wednesday March 1, 2023. 52F/11C. Fans and appliances hum in the cabin. The storm door is rattling. Upon being opened, a golden cat rushes inward. He emits a coarse mew and lays down on the cool floor. He means to present for a serious ear rubbing, which is given to him gently. His

God’s law is love

1 p.m. Tuesday February 28, 2023. 71F/22C. Almost. The golden cat meowed his hello, ate what he was offered, and ran off very quickly. His friends in the forest may have killed something large and they all hover about it until it is gone. Last night at sundown, even the coyotes made an uninvited appearance