I wrote this poem last year about a very cold time in my life more than fifteen years ago now, when I was a Bible college student in northern Wisconsin. Looking back on these memories, I think that that cold darkness was necessary to lead me toward the warm sunshine of healing, and I feel deeply grateful.

Snow was piled up, not falling,
the air too cold for clouds.
My breath froze in my scarf, not melting;
my boots slid on the ground.

I opened the chapel door, not flinching,
and found an empty seat.
The rest of them seemed fine, not doubting,
their worship right and sweet.

I'd come here with one wish, not wavering:
to learn to serve my God.
But I was breaking, I was breaking,
under my scarved facade.

Anna’s River

🌊Remembrance of Deep Cold