When the New Year Blows In

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As the hands of the clock pushed midnight on New Year’s Eve, the wind began to howl. Its lonely whistle echoed in the darkness like a freight train bound for dawn. Abandoned soccer balls somersaulting across the yard tripped the floodlights, then rolled to a tangled halt in the swaying prairie grass beyond the swing set. 


November’s murky leaves swirled skyward in a gusty waltz as Heaven’s breath tapped against our windows. The panes rattled with a rhythmic rap. Loose gutters clanged. Stray shingles slapped. The old year blew out as a new one stormed in.  

 
 Another wail pulled me from sleep. She whimpered like the wind while I huddled beneath the covers and willed her cries to cease. Hope deferred, I stumbled from my bed to hers. She pointed to the shifting shadows playing tag on her wall and murmured in sleepy senselessness.  I flipped on the lamp, pulled a blankie to her chin; kissed her tousled curls. In hushed melodies of prayer, I invited angels to hover near, then tiptoed from the dim-lit room. 
 
The chimney flue clattered a 2 A.M. chime as moonlight poured through our bedroom windows. Tall trees beyond the glass shimmied with the raging wind. Leafless limbs bowed low, then reached eagerly for the star-capped sky. Like yo-yos wild at play, twigs stretched and sprung in sync with the roaring gales. 
 
And through my mind blew the words I’d read in the glowing light of yesterday’s dawn: You know well enough how the wind blows this way and that. You hear it rustling through the trees, but you have no idea where it comes from or where it’s headed next. That’s the way it is with everyone ‘born from above’ by the wind of God, the Spirit of God (John 3:7-9)
 
I studied those swaying trees and imagined what I could not see–sturdy roots clenched deep beneath the cold lawn, anchors for the trembling boughs. My husband sighed in his sleep. I turned from the window and slid soundlessly into bed beside him. Daylight would soon replace moonbeams, and with dawn would come my challenge for 2012: To sink roots deep and dance unafraid with the gales that come. Wind from Heaven. Hope for the new year. Hallelujah.
 
The Overflow:  “But blessed are those who trust in the Lord
and have made the Lord their hope and confidence.
 They are like trees planted along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep into the water.” -Jeremiah 17:7-9
Alicia

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