A spark of God's love

The weather in this part of Canada, in late February, is brittle cold. The temperature is expected to drop to minus 30 degrees, snow has been falling for days. It's not fitting for a man in an electric wheelchair to venture out of my little house. And so I listen to the stereo and keep a crackling fire burning in the fireplace (I've burned about two-thirds of my winter supply of wood.) Wind rattles the windows.

It's that time when one goes to bed early and hides beneath a mountain of blankets to read, pray, then eventually stare at the ceiling waiting for sleep. The roof keeps out the elements but it also keeps out the sky.

I need inspiration. The familiarity, warmth and security of my home are a bit too comfortable and I have grown lethargic. Uneventful weeks drift into each other.

It is in these rather lonesome times that I rediscover anew a spark of God's love flickering within me. Often it goes unnoticed in busy times. His silent presence calls to me "Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46.10)


As I am typing these words, the opening bars of a cello playing Charles Gounod's O Divine Redeemer have begun to play. I find myself being drawn into the music and the glowing embers of a dying fire in the hearth.

I am still. He is here. This brittle night is blessed.

MP