She tosses black oil sunflower seeds out over her snowy yard from the porch and in seconds, feathered ones from every direction flutter in for their free lunch. I watch from the window and I know that even though this little ritual cheers her heart, this longest of winters is taking it's toll on her. My mom's injuries from the accident have continued to grip her like a thick icicle that won't let go. The surgeon says she won't get well unless she has invasive surgery that will perhaps put her out for a year. There are other complications to it as well, and so she waits and prays and tries to decide what to do. In the meantime, she does her best to walk the icy roads for exercize, drive with trepidation, and clean her home in stages, as not to incur too much pain.
A good, full winter with its extreme cold and mounds of snow is normally her favourite. My mom prays for snow and her grandchildren are reminded of her when they hear the song, "Let It Snow". But this time, the relentless harshness of the season has been discouraging. And so, we feed birds, take photos and thank the Lord for how He cares for us like He provides for them. She smiles, watches carefully and exclaims when the cardinals return. They didn't come all summer and now she has a splash of red in her dark winter--the cardinals, saved for such a time as this longest of seasons. Hope flies in and God whispers that He sees her in that little chair, gazing out the window into the bleakness.
More about her accident here.
