Such is the way I feel right now.
I'm tired of the dark, lonely days of winter. The iciness cuts into my bones, making it hard to stand against the frigid blasts of cruelty and selfishness, the sting of accusations against my cheeks. I know there's the sure hope of spring and summer, but they seem such a long way off and I'm cold today.
I don't know how to pray. Should I pray for a shortened winter? Should I pray for a warm coat and hat to get me through this emotional winter? At times, I feel tempted to take matters in to my own hands and just crank the thermostat of anger and revenge way up. But there's a cost to that, which I'm not willing to pay. I thank God for His wisdom in understanding this. But I can't make any guarantees that I won't slip on the slick sidewalks of temptation and fall flat on my face.
I guess this is where grace comes in to play; the God-granted ability to navigate the snowy obstacle courses without slipping, sliding and falling. Surely the hinds running through the high places encountered snow on those mountain tops. At least I'm on the flat grounds of Erie.
Come spring. Come Lord Jesus.