I rolled out of bed early and looked out the window with a groan. Snow. April 15. Not cool. But this is western New York and it always snows in April. Still, it doesn't feel temporary during these long stay at home days. Then the morning light. It caught my eye as I walked by windows full of bright, falling white. There's something about morning that just won't let you not see the earth's transformation as it moves low and then high against the sky. What is it about certain times of day that create nostaglia and memory? I have a very specific feeling that I can recall every time I see this kind of light. It convinces. It interrupts your current activity. It compels you to look, to see, to wonder and ponder it's presence. What more can one do but to stop and pay attention. So that's what I did. “Learn to light a candle in the darkest moments of someone’s life. Be the light that helps others see; it is what
It's been coming in slowly these past few months. Traces hardly noticed when blanketed snow is present, yet it lies waiting, anticipating the moments when temperatures say rise and the Son comes again after three days in the ground. "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be apparent to all. The Lord is near. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." ~Philippians 4:4-7 ~ Post by Elsa