Driving up the winding, forested road towards Hot Springs, one encounters around a certain turn a great waterfall, seemingly out of place amid the dense trees and viewless corners. A chasm suddenly appears, revealing a steep drop and a cascading torrent which crashes a hundred feet below. The winter day we happened upon the falls saw temperatures in the single digits, creating a fog as the water reached the bottom which rose like smoke and clouded the rocks below. The trees near the falls appear as if freshly snowed upon, each donning a white coat created from the mist. It appears at once beautiful but strangely eerie, and I am reminded how a cold heart touches everything around it. The falls roar and rush with fierce movement, but all around is frozen, motionless, silent. And I see that when I sin, I rage and command all around to listen while I leave my hearers stricken and still in the wake. Cold words or deeds can fall with great force and create an icy smoke which lingers and lands on those closest to us, leaving them dumbstruck and shivering. Like the trees around the icy falls who await Spring, how those who dwell in the midst of an icy heart long for the Son to rise up and bring warm life again! Thank you God, for a gentle yet powerful glimpse into my own depravity, and the hope I have in you!
