The slow retreat
The world’s covered over, but here and there, the frost, in slow retreat, relinquishes its hold. The cold is no match for warmth; darkness no match for light; death no match for life.
And people say God is invisible… Nonsense.
What's lost is nothing to what's found, and all the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup. —Frederick Buechner