I looked out. The winter storm had passed through during the early hours and chilled everything. The edge of the carport has tiny fingers of ice hanging down, already dripping from the sun that has poked its head through the clouds. All the trees have on an 'sweater' of silvery ice, each limb weighed down by the weight of the forming cold. The chickens visiting the yard are also weighed down with ice, making it difficult to for them to walk. Certainly their little legs are tired and sore from the frozen platform they walk on in search of food that will warm them. The rooster's tail is sagging with the ice and the hens are looking for ways to shed the 'cold blanket' they have found themselves wrapped in as the morning now moves into midday.

I marvel at how resilient the animals are. God has placed a 'will' in them to 'carry on' even through the tough times. Di was almost crying as she brought the plight of the chickens to my attention. Her tender heart is one of the most endearing things I love about her.

Here I sit, warm and alive in my little kingdom, surrounded by all 'the undone', working on getting better at what I'm trying to learn. I look to gather it all in and become proficient at what is required to be successful and try desperately not to get frustrated with how long it's taking to get there. We are so impatient. 

An artists friend sent me a short story. His take on life is very good. He always gives the credit, the glory, to God. I like that about my friend. People should be more like my friend. There is way too much 'self' in the mix nowadays. How did we get so self centered and 'needy'? I know the Bible says, "In the last days men's hearts will wax worse and worse..." Everything is coming true and to fruition around us. How can so many miss such strong evidence staring them in the face?

I'm wondering if anything I'm saying will be the least bit impactful or meaningful to its readers? Solomon said, "All is vanity..." Am I so vain that I think my words will have a bearing on life? How do these blogs measure up to truth; to reality? How much of ourselves must  we give before the answers are acted on? I keep typing away as though I had good sense.

My only surety is God. My only solace. I rest in the comfort that He is watching. He is guarding. He is laughing at my juvenile antics and attempts at being 'wise'. I love Him so.

What will the rest of the day bring? What marvels will I discover lying among the pages of the text? It's for us to search, it's for us to measure. Are we doing all we can to "make it better"? 

I sure hope so.