A Sweet Song of Victory

Darkness creeps across the world and sends a chill flooding in persistent waves over every uncovered thing.
Find shelter and take cover!
Even the most remote place is blanketed with this wintery death.
Nothing can save us.
 
Frost is laden across this winter world, just as sin has enveloped the soul.
It shimmers and gleams on the surface of every object, yet its beauty is counterfeit.
The infectious frosty grasp is a silent killer, enclosing upon the throat of each living creature,
blackening the soul and rendering death.
 
My breath forms in the air, hanging for a moment and then disappearing in the next.
This fleeting breath is not my own.
I have been formed by the hands of the creator.
I am marked, by the saviour, as a marvelous masterpiece:
“O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?”
1 Corinthians 15:55-57
An unwarranted yet all-encompassing life suddenly blooms within my soul.
 
Immediately the sun graces its way across the sky and illuminates the shadowy places.
In the matter of a moment, the sun blazes victoriously.
Each tree branch dampens and the powerful, chilling frost drips away and fades from existence.
In the midst of a seemingly endless winter the red-breasted robin stands firm and chirps a resounding song of hope.
Glory be to the Son.
 
Written by: Justine Boles