... in a ploughed field
It was a bitterly cold day and we had decided to have a woodland walk. The landscape was rather bleak; there was still some frost gleaming on the ground and a very overcast sky seemed to be threatening some sleet if not snow.
I began to understand the term “the dead of winter” as we trudged over decaying leaves and battered undergrowth. The branches were bare for the most part and apart from a few berries, on which some birds were feeding, there was little life to be seen.
And then we emerged at the edge of the wood at the top of the hill. And just as we did so, the sun broke through for a few minutes and we warmed up, sheltered from the cold wind.
In front of us was a beautiful ploughed field. The rich brown soil had been turned over, there were no dead stalks or left-over seed heads. It had been carefully prepared and was ready for planting.
There was no clue as to what was to grow in it next Spring but it spoke to me of promise and fruitfulness. It was a sign of hope in a cold environment and my spirits lifted.
Lord, prepare my heart for you this Advent. Break up the hardened soil of my life so that you may sow seeds of love.