Susan LaffertySomething new. Blank page of another year. Month. Day.
Unwritten. Unspoken. Unknown by me.
At the open door sits fresh, white snow as far as the eye can see. Waiting for the first footprint.
Looks like hope.
Famine. It’s coming.
An odd theme to consider in the middle of Thanksgiving season. But there it is. In my daily Bible reading.
Amos the herdsman delivers this word of the Lord. To a people nonchalant. Complacent. And ultimately resistant.
Unwilling to repent.
And this is no scarcity of grain in lean years. Nothing like the famine of Joseph’s day.
Unto us a Child is born.
Unto us. In a broken world. Where sorrow runs deep. And grief overwhelms.
Where loss breaks our hearts.
And we forget to breathe.
