Wind has swept the sky clean of clouds this morning, reminding me of the nursery rhyme, The Old Woman in a Basket. Without re-printing the whole thing, let me say, the old woman was tossed up in a basket seventeen times as high as the moon. She carried a broom to sweep the cobwebs down from the sky. So, maybe that old woman was busy last night because if cobwebs are clouds, she did a really good job of sweeping them away.
Now, if she could just sweep the cobwebs from my thoughts so that my uncluttered mind could zero in on one topic and concentrate on it until a problem was solved or a prayer was answered or a mystery was a mystery no longer.
We live in a world of pressure, rather like being in a storm with expectations, opinions, suggestions that result in a swarm of conflicting thoughts and ideas, usually somebody else’s.
It is good to have an anchor that is steadfast and a Friend who knows and loves me for being who I am: unique. There is only One who can say to the winds, “Peace, be still.” (Mark 4:39) When I feel buffeted and blown about, I am grateful for that Anchor who made me who I am.
Me too, Blanche, me too…….
Thanks for writing, Josephine. There’s hope for us after all. We can’t give up!!