As I stand outside on the back porch of my childhood home, I stand as if gracefully on some distant seashore with the bitter air harshly nipping at my cheeks; barefoot and bearing a restless soul. Gently in the distance, chimes whistle a graceful sound and sway as if they are making melody with the wind. With hot cocoa in one hand and a cigarette lit in the other, I watch as the winter trees dance to the song of the land. A gust rolls in as the sun peaks through the vast clouds above. I close my eyes as if to take in the marvelous beauty would cause my eyes to burn and tear. Then my soul appears, sneaking in so timely and in that stillness I know my God is with me. My heart cannot comprehend His love, but it knows quite well that His love is full of grandeur. As I descend across the eroded yet lovely wooden porch back into that familiar haven I was raised in so many years before, I am gently reminded that my God is always with me and that all is well with my soul.