Strong winds are blowing this morning.

Spitting snow bites the gusty wind. I smile–happy and secure in a warm house, snuggling deeper into my soft cotton throw.

But life goes on outside in the bitter cold. The thistle seed sock feeder invites all colors of finches to come for breakfast–no matter how low the temperature; a small convention of my winged friends is gathering.

The feeder, hanging from the ledge of the deck, blows violently. And the birds hang on just as tightly. It is comical to watch them latch tenaciously while swinging 90 degrees. That flimsy little sock is their meal-time oasis. They hold on anytime to feast on the tiny seeds, but the force of the wind this morning  causes those little feet to dig a bit stronger into the holey mesh.

As I watch, I wonder what I hold to when winds blow around me– when disappointments and heartache shake my Pollyanna foundation; –when sorrow and hurtful words block the sunshine; –when sadness and sickness feel like cold winds cutting through the very fabric of my faith.

Can I say with David in Psalm 62, “You alone are my rock and my salvation; you are my fortress, I will never be shaken.” This affirmation of the Lord as a rock, a strong tower, a refuge occurs over and over again from events in David’s often turbulent  life. I think he would say; “you are my thistle sock feeder”–the place I go for nourishment when I am weak and hungry–no matter how severe the winds are.

(And I love how these finches get along–as many as eight and ten–eat together without squabbles and fights.  That is a later blog idea–but maybe, just maybe, it is because they have to focus on holding on for their personal food.)

“I will trust in You at all times–(I will hold on, even when the winds blow); I will pour out my  heart to You, for you are my refuge.” Psalm 62: 8