6th August 2022

I thought I wasn’t going to see one this winter, but there it was – a massive frost covering a field in the mountains. At minus 3, the best viewing of a frost of course, is with a beanie pulled low and a warm cup of tea held tightly. It was a magnificent sight, and reminded me of my early years when a frosty walk was accompanied by the sound of crunching ice and the satisfaction of leaving behind a well-defined set of footprints.

But then comes the moment of submission, when the frost yields to a higher power. The sun comes out and begins to dominate. But gradually. And its kind shining leads to a kind melting. And soon the grass reappears, having drunk in what it needed and ready to face the day, and thankful to the one who released it from its icy grip.

With what kindness does God convert the heart. (Yes, sometimes very dramatically like Paul on the Damascus Road…… and who will object to that?) But often a slow thawing. A growing conviction that His love is warm. An increasing persuasion to repent of a cold heart. A willing submission and eager yielding to His grace. David in one of his songs put it this way: “He sends His command to the earth; His word runs swiftly. He spreads the snow like wool and scatters the frost like ashes….. He sends His word and melts them; He stirs up his breezes, and the waters flow.”

DM 6^th August 2022