Promise In The Snow

     The day after a snowstorm, morning breaks across the landscape with a brilliance unlike any other day. The ground is covered with a blanket of tiny, sparkling jewels, each capturing the light and refracting it back into the sky. At first, it's almost blinding. Then, as your eyes adjust, you stand in silent wonder at the beauty of God's creation.
     How can anything as beautiful as our world be so gloriously wrapped in such wonder? Would it be possible to capture this beauty and preserve its pristine delight?
      Seeing such splendor, it's hard to imagine how harsh such an attractive environment actually is. But to sustain the beauty before your eyes, the air must remain utterly frigid. The sun's penetrating rays must be countered by the intensity of the cold. Sustained existence in such a picturesque setting requires intense effort, effort that forces beauty to be ignored, forces it into the background by the harsh reality of survival. The charm of a winter's day is soon lost in the demands brought on by the long winter season.
     Still, when the nights grow cold, and the first snows of winter drift across the land, I find myself absorbed in a reverie of nostalgia - a blazing fire, a steaming cup of cocoa, and the closeness of family and friends. Something about winter makes me want to draw near to those I love, to protect them from the coldness of the world, to shelter them from the harsh winter of life.
     How precious it is to snuggle down, wrapped up in a blanket with giggling children; how fulfilling to wrap your arms around the one you love and feel her heartbeat close and strong.
     Look! Outside the window there's a flash of red. A scarlet bird flits across the face of the snow ... now two ... now three. No, there is a whole flock of cardinals making its way to the feeder in the tree, delighted to find food, oblivious to the cold. And other birds are joining the feathered dance, eager to share the bounty so easily obtained.
     One could complain of winter, I guess. It's too cold. It's too windy. It's too hard to travel and get around. But don't.
      Soon enough the white will turn to green, and the happy colors of buds and blooms will offer a different visual song. The season will change. Spring will sing its tune and the promise God made so long ago will offer a different dance. Once more, His promise will be fulfilled.
     "While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, winter and summer, and day and night shall not cease."
                                        Gen. 8:22 NKJV
 

Return to BLOGSPOT

     Today, I take the plunge to return to the waters of serial writing, now under the heading Candid Soul. I have often thought of doing this, but since my last venture I have been wholly engaged in a host of other things.
      Recently, I posted some inner thoughts on Facebook and was almost immediately pressed to write a more consistent blog. My last attempts turned out to be quite lengthy and gained little traction. As a writer, I want my writing to be read. More importantly, I want to encourage others who write to keep their fingers on the keyboard and their thoughts in lofty places.
      So, for what it's worth, I will once again attempt to become a faithful contributor to the wonderful world of words. Hopefully my musings will encourage someone else, perhaps several someone elses, perhaps, even you.