How priceless is your love, O God!
your people take refuge under the shadow of your wings. Psalm 36:7
I cannot erase the chill from the back of my neck; rather, despite my wool sweater it creeps further down between my shoulder blades. As my second cup of tea steeps, I stand in front of the kitchen heating vent, greedy for its warmth. The warm spot, my daughters used to call it when they were little.
They would sit on the floor in front of this vent on a cold winter morning and I would serve them breakfast and hot cocoa with a footstool as their table. A place of comfort and refuge from the draftiness of our old house. That battered stool is in front of me now, and I can’t imagine their bodies ever being small enough to sit beneath it. But they were.
And now I stand here, wishing I were small enough to huddle in front of the vent and let its heat waft over and around me. But another warmth envelops me as I call to mind the wings of love that protect me from the drafts of doubt and discontent. The wings of God that can enfold me even as I stand tall and move into my day. How priceless this refuge that travels with me.
I finish my second cup of tea, and the chill is gone.
Copyright Anne E. Kitch 2014