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Two weeks ago, I sat across from a couple who had questions about faith and had quickly grown to love our little church family. Our talk lasted around 30 minutes, but the time rushed by so quickly, it felt like 30 seconds. But there they sat, trusting in Jesus Christ for salvation and making plans for baptism the following week.

That day came this past Sunday as they, along with their children, were baptized during our worship gathering. Praise God! During the time of response, two people came forward to profess faith. And after the service, another person wanted to place their faith in Jesus. He alone saves. In the middle of the raging storm, when it feels like the chaos is enough to do you in, know that God is still faithful. And my friends, hear me: When the storm does break, let the fresh sunlight of a dawning day wash over you as you enter a time of refreshing.

Your email address will not be published. Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. About Archives Subscribe. Her hands slipped to the comfort of his arms and he gave her a squeeze of reassurance.

They stood together for a few minutes gazing at the snow that now clung to everything in its path. Ivor stood staring out of the window. Inwardly he hoped that the snow would not get any worse.

The Blessing Is On the Other Side

He knew how treacherous the paths could be in the cruelest of winters. If he told Iris how he really felt, she would worry herself to death.


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No need to panic her. She was already on edge. For twenty minutes the flakes eased, then began to pick up the pace, becoming heavier than before. The wind swirled the snow like sand in a desert storm. Ivor tapped his fingers upon the wooden window ledge. Iris had not taken her eyes off the weather herself.

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She watched from the corner of her eye as she added more carrots to the lamb stew. They should be at Mrs. At least that was what she hoped. She prayed silently to God to keep her children safe from harm. When the weather had turned so harshly a few years ago, their other daughters; Rose age two, and Lily age four, got sick and later died of pneumonia. Their deaths were just a year apart from each other. The family had been beside themselves with grief. When Molly had been born seven years ago, it felt like they were given a third chance in life.

Ivor had called her their miracle baby. He doted on her as much as he did their son. They felt blessed to have their two remaining children. She hoped God would hear and listen to her prayers.

Iris smiled and watched him as he slipped on his coat and woolen hat. The hinges on the door creaked as it opened and a gust of icy air burst into the room. They bent their heads, trying to shield their faces from the icy wind that whistled past them. Molly pulled her collar tighter around her neck.

It had been bitterly cold when they left the house, but it seemed much colder now. Her feet ached and her face stung with the biting wind. The sky looked as white as paper and she could hardly see the scenery anymore. He hugged her closer to him and he could feel her body shaking.

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She should never have come. He would have been quicker on his own, but his sister could be persuasive, with her sea blue eyes and innocent smile. He always gave in to her in the end, but he enjoyed her company, even though she was four years younger than him. They trudged on until they reached Mrs. Arnold knocked on the door hard.

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He hoped the old dear had her hearing aid in. They stood for a few moments and waited before he rapped harder on the door again.

His knuckles felt numb. From inside the house, they heard the faint sound of feet shuffling. Molly cupped her hands together and blew inside them. They heard the key slip into the door. It clicked as it turned. The door opened slowly to reveal an old woman, stooped with grey wavy hair. She looked at them and smiled. Her small brown eyes widened at their apple red cheeks and cherry pink noses. Molly did the same and followed. A blast of warm air greeted them as they entered. They shuddered as it swarmed around them, like bees to a hive. Arnold stared outside.

The snow pelted down. It reminded him of a pillow fight that he and Molly had one night. There were feathers everywhere. The bedroom had been as white as outside. Mam had given them a row for making such a mess and made them tidy up. It seemed to take forever, probably because they kept throwing the feathers over each other instead of cleaning up, but it had been fun.

It made him nervous. From the kitchen, they heard the whistle of the kettle. A few minutes later Mrs. Hettle appeared in the doorway carrying a dark blue flask. I wish you would stay. He smiled gratefully and opened his mouth to say something, but before he had a chance Mrs. Hettle ushered them gently towards the door. Hurry home, children. Hurry home.

The snow lay thick on the ground as they trudged home. Every now and again Molly could feel droplets of ice slipping into her boots and melting underneath her woolen tights. Her toes were getting colder. Now and again she would get pins and needles in her feet. It had turned cement grey.

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The Other Side of the Storm, a song by Poppy, Branch on Spotify

The storm would get worse overnight. They had to get home.


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Arnold bent down for his sister to get on his back. She clutched on to his shoulders and jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist. He lifted her up a little bit more so that she rested comfortably on him and they set off once again. He carried her for the best part of ten minutes but could feel his legs becoming heavier as the snow lay thicker on the ground. His knees began to buckle and his breathing became heavier.