The Christmas Cabin

Through the distance the form of a small wooden framed cabin could be seen buried underneath the new fallen snow.

Gone were the footprints that came over the hillside and led up to the heavy wooden door.

A misty haze filled the air as the evening fog rolled over the mountains and settled in the low points of the valley's floor.

The snow covered the roof and buried the little cabin to the place where those inside were sealed from the outside world of distractions and deceptions.

All that could be heard was the ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional pop from the fire place.

There he sat fully extended feet pointed towards the fire place thinking those thoughts that seemed to be stored up for such times as this.

Those sacred thoughts of God, scripture, and moments most seem to overlook and miss as they move through the motions of life.

Yes, it is here that rest really comes. It is here that life is truly lived. It is here - that love is found wrapped in mercy and immersed in grace.