Poetry

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Even in the cold, wintry snow, I hold the delicate cardinal close as he fluffs his feathers to bring more warmth. The brightness of his blood-red feathers lights up the gray sky above him. He bursts forth with a whistle full of My melody drifting through the still, frosty air. This gaiety of the cardinal is a reminder that I am always there, listening to the song of life. The blood-red feathers are a reminder that I am always there, redeeming those who look to the rugged, stained cross.



For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. Job 19:25-27

I have blotted out your transgressions like a cloud and your sins like mist; return to me, for I have redeemed you. Isaiah 44:22

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