Right now I’m sitting next an open window in the upstairs bedroom of our cottage. I wish you, whoever you are reading this, could be here with me. As I sit, a cool breeze blows in the fresh scent of the countryside and the sweet smell of blooming flowers, with just enough of the smokiness of burning firewood mixed in to dampen the crispness of the evening air. Countless birds sing their songs to the Maker of the heavens, and their melodies make their way across the gardens to my room. The sun is well on its way to setting, and the bright pink of its fading rays punctuates the darkening sky and the gray-blue patches of harmless clouds. I wait here in the stillness, in my wicker chair beside the window, and the Spirit whispers gently to me from the quiet wind. The LORD is good. The LORD is good. The LORD is good.
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