Minor Casualties

A pleasing rumble of airplanes spread through the air and across the back yards behind the house early this morning, not the sound of crashing walls.

The gentle call of a songbird filled the crisp morning, soon joined by an orchestra of sand hill cranes preparing for daily flight, not the tormented wail of an injured mother clasping a dying child in her arms.

And I looked forlornly at my white poinsettia neglected in the frosty cold feeling as if I had a minor casualty.

Minor indeed.

God be with the suffering people in Haiti. Grant them miracles of love as helping hands abound, and thank you for all of my major blessings.

Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:16

Peace.

Love, Linda