Shall we all be saved? Shall we go to Heaven? Alas, my children, we do not know at all! But I tremble when I see so many souls lost these days. See, they fall into Hell as leaves fall from the trees at the approach of winter. ~ St. Jean Marie Baptiste Vianney, the Cure of Ars
Yesterday, I wrote about a dream I had in 2016. A white map in the sky. A warning. Yesterday, the meaning of the white in the map was made clear. It referred to winter. Not the winter we know. Not just the winter of spirits either. But a winter of actual withdrawing from the world and remaining indoors.
The winter of stay-home orders and of lockdowns due to Covid-19.
On this Friday of repentance and atonement, I am choosing to offer up my day for the leaves which may fall as this winter nears. May they be pierced and warmed by the Son’s saving rays, as my sinner’s heart has been. May those leaves come to know what it truly means to be loved and cherished, as I have learned through my own brokenness.
May the approaching winter bring a light and warmth never before seen nor felt.
Let no leaf be lost.
writingonmyheart 