The wind

Today has been an exceptionally windy day in Blanding. I can hear it even now whipping around my little four-plex. Every time I step outside it tugs at my skirt and swirls my hair up into tangles. It is biting and relentless.

For some reason, I love the sound of the wind. I love its howl and fierce, persistent drive. But what I really love is to be in my own little haven as it wreaks it's havoc. I am grateful that I have a place I can go to escape it's clawing fingers. It reminds me of Wordsworth's famous lines, "The world is too much with us, late and soon..." The wind seems to me a tangible reminder of the howl of doctrines, the swirl of worldly perspectives, the bite of bad decisions. I am grateful that my home is a place I can go that is safe from the storm.

It reminds me that no matter what happens in life, there is a safe harbor. I do not have to be bogged down by life's decisions and demands if I am able to find a place to "be still and know that [He is] God." I am grateful not only for my physical home--this quiet and clean little place that is my sanctuary, but for a figurative home base--a source of power and strength that I can always go back to, so that I may face the howling winds and not be blown away.