We saw them as we walked out from the basement door on one of those bitter mornings two weeks ago: a group of bluebirds loosely huddled above the snow in the low branches of a mock orange bush. Their colors seemed brilliant against the frozen white, orange chests and blue backs, all fluffed and puffy. “They look huge,” I commented to Paul. “Yeah,” he replied, “trying to stay warm.”

Fifty feet away, another small group of dark gray birds with black heads and beaks caught breaks of early morning sun, sheltered by a clump of old limbs and branches stacked on the sloping bank beneath the trees.

In a world where even the wild birds find shelter from minus thirty wind chills and some place of protection in the midst of winter, how much more blessed are we who not only have the provisions of this life but also have the very Spirit of God living within us!

H. Arnett
1/22/10