Surrendering to the Storm

This morning after breakfast, we take the girls sledding.  We travel behind the house, past the forest, and into a wide clearing.  All I see is space–so much of it that I actually want to breathe a little more deeply and stretch my arms out.  I understand why folks from the city want to visit for a while and send their children to experience a rural life for a month. 

Sledding Hill

I never thought I could survive in a town like this. I had to surrender to God and believe I belonged here.  But what would we do all day long? 

Right now, we are learning the rhythms of winter.  We aren’t diminished at all by whatever storm assaults us. 

The storm just means we grab our sleds and ride.   There’s a good thing to experience here, and so we launch ourselves out, gain momentum, and surrender. 

It’s so great that we do it again and again.  Sure I’m sore.  But it’s worth it.  Surrender always is.  

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  1. Thank you so much for this post.

    I moved from a warm, humid, conservative climate (where I have spent all my life) to the foothills of Colorado four months ago. I knew no one, and had no experience with winter weather, mountains, dry skin, or being “green.”

    Only in the past few weeks have I started to “surrender,” accepting the moments, views, and viewpoints that come my way. It's so refreshing!