One day last week, while my husband and youngest daughter slept snugly in their beds, and Mother Nature covered the trees and fields with a soft blanket of white, I quietly walked outside in the dark to take some photos of the gently falling snow. The world around me was cold, barren, frozen and unwelcoming. And it was absolutely exquisite. It was my favorite kind of snow. It fell softly from the sky, landing on every branch, leaf, and needle, turning each and every tree into a glowing, white piece of art, a fine sculpture created by the loving hand of God. I couldn’t help but think about a conversation that I’ve had with more than one person lately.
You see, I’m noticing a trend, and it makes me sad. I see it in the young and old, in the workplace and in school, among volunteer committees and organizations, even within my own family. Everyone is looking for the easy way out, the no-pain method of doing things. There is a belief that everyone is entitled to happiness, to the never-ending bliss that drowns all pain and discomfort and allows each person to live a life of total pleasure without worry or sacrifice. I’ve even heard people say that here, in the United States, everyone is entitled to be happy.
But they’re wrong. Read more
nights ago, a friend of mine from high school lost her long struggle with cancer. She was 45, unmarried, and without children. She had so much life still to live! This morning, our world was rocked with the news that another family friend has passed on. Even more tragic, this young man was just twenty-one years old; his life was only just beginning. My friend died knowing that she was being held, as the song and Psalm say, “in the palm of His hand.” The young man did not, and I wonder if that would have made all the difference.
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