"It is never too late to become the person you might have been." --George Elliot
I love days like today, days that are are cloudy, cold and windy. I love them because they make the inside of my house feel cozier, warmer and brighter. All I want to do on days like this is curl up under a chenille throw on my couch and read a good book and sip hot tea and luxuriate in the yummy goodness of home. And ignore my children and the ringing telephone and refuse to cook dinner and...
Sorry. I got carried away.
I do find it so odd, though, that when the circumstances of life mirror days like this, when the landscape of my existence is dark and cold and windswept, all I can see and feel is the outside. While the stormy afternoon only serves to magnify the warmth and comfort of the refuge of home, the difficulties of life often overshadow the warmth and comfort and coziness that can be found in the refuge of God. Why is that? Shouldn't the dark circumstances of life stand in stark contrast to all the light and comfort and protection of the home we have in the shadow of His wings?
I think it is all part of this process of becoming, this learning to live in oneness with the Lover of our souls. It takes time. And it takes much stumbling and falling and then just as much getting back up and moving forward to change our perspective. When Paul talked of being "crucified with Christ that I might no longer live, but Christ lives in me," (Gal 2:20) he was speaking of this divine perspective, this arduous journey from self-awareness to God-awareness. He longs to be that to whom our gaze is drawn when the storms come, that we might be identified with Him alone and not to the fears that threaten when clouds roll in and the winds pick up.
It is a process. It is a journey. And it is never too late.