It’s the middle of winter, we’re long past the jolly days of Christmas evergreens and brightly wrapped packages. The Babe has already been born, and we are back in Ordinary Time in the Catholic Church now for almost a month.
Usually, I find this post-holiday season to be somewhat depressing, but for some reason, it’s as if a beacon has cast its glow upon me in a dark, foggy night, calling me home again. I look out my window at the tiny sparrows who flock to the bird feeder, accompanied by doves, cardinals, pigeons, and a squirrel or two. Sunlight beckons, lighting up the crystal blue of the sky, even though we’re in the single digits in temperature, something unheard of in the New York City area.
And a feeling of warmth and hope envelops my heart. Sometimes times are rough, but I have the firm belief, that in the end, all will work out. That’s quite an accomplishment for someone who has struggled with depression for the past several years.
And it’s something to smile about, so perhaps there’s no reason to analyze my new state of mind, but simply to thank Jesus for His tender Love.