All The Time, God Is Good

It’s dark.  I pull up in the woods and park.  Grab my bag of books which include That Living Thing, my thermos, and brace for the cold.  I can hear the angel even before I open the door.  She is roaring like the great thing she is and glowing bright orange.  The forest floor and nearby trees all hallowed in her halo create the holy ground I walk into.  I quietly sit down beside her, deep in the trees, the stillness of the dark forest made even more welcoming by her presence.  She and I have sat together for years but it’s always best in winter when her warmth enclose me in her benign embrace.  I begin to check her making sure her time alive on earth is going well.  It is my task to give her those Eden Elements, fire, air, water, and earth that makes her brief time on earth productive.  It is a gift to embrace her, nurture her, provide her basic nourishment as she then allows me to live with her.  She is alive, vibrantly living, roaring about her task of making beauty, a responsibility of Godly delight.  I envy her, her job is to make beauty and sit with me, her only task in her short life here on earth.  I return to my chair beside her, pour a hot cup of coffee, sink deep into eternity, and open the Ancient Text that birthed her.  God is good.  All the time. 

                                                                            My dawn.