He did this for you!

Did you ever watch ice melt on a river?

​As it recedes, sometimes you can discover crystals that have been hidden, compressed deep within the ice.

I feel like our problems and suffering are the same as this ice;  they are just a heavy burden that we carry, they weigh us down and paralyze us for a time.  

But when Spring comes round again, as it always does, sometimes we catch a glimpse of the great value of our troubles.  Even the beauty of our burdens. 

After all, the ice feeds the river.  

​Ice is a source of its strength.

“I” am the only difference between Running and Ruining my life.  


I can run it.


I can ruin it.


I.

I cannot get Robert Frost's poem out of my mind today.  

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.

I did go miles.  And miles.  My feet were frozen, my hands numb.  But the woods were silent as a whisper, soft flakes floated down from the silver sky.  They settled on my camera lens, melted into blurry spots on each picture I took.  

The snowstorm was breathtaking.    

Yesterday, during a very foggy walk, I noticed a weed.  I judged it to be nothing but a dried up old weed on the side of the road.  It was not beautiful, it was not unique, it was not wanted by anyone.  Just an old weed, that's all.  Not even worth noticing.

But last night, God, in his mercy, decided that old weed was worthy. So when the misty fog of heaven came down, the old and the dead became transformed.  

Beautiful.  

In fact, an entire field of weeds was transformed in the dark, crystallized in glorious perfection.  Together, the weeds reflected the pure light of the sun.  It was dazzling.

It doesn't matter what people might have said or thought or how they may have judged this weed yesterday.  Because today, God's mercy extends to the lowliest.

And mercy triumphs over judgement.

No words today.  Just this:

Just in case you missed the sunrise today:  Here it is through my frosty windowpane.

This is what happens when the air is so cold that water vaporizes.
We boil pots of water...

head outside...

And toss the water up in the air.  

There ya go:

We make our own clouds.  Our own snowflakes.  And our own ice drops.
​We are that cool.

A friend of mine asked an esoteric question yesterday.  He asked, rather incredulously,  "Why the (insert inappropriate word here) would anyone live in Minnesota?
​
Well, my Friend, this is one reason:  

I hear a picture is worth a thousand words.

'Nuff said.

The ice is booming and cracking as it expands.  Winter has finally arrived.  Yes, that is steam escaping from places where the lake ice is still thin.  Good morning to you...

I almost missed it.




As I was driving this morning, the roads were iced over, so I drove more slowly than usual.  Because I was driving slower, I noticed a tree in the misty darkness on the side of the road.  The weather was snowy and foggy…but the tree was so radiant.   Amazing, really.  It was so special, it stood out from all the rest.


The tree was lit brilliantly for Christmas, still glowing in the foggy, January dawn.  Someone had made a great effort to really bestow that small tree with lights of all sizes and colors.   The colors radiated through the frigid darkness, reflected off the dazzling snow in a spectrum of beauty, shining like a beacon of hope and joy in the shadowy world.  


It glowed. 


I pulled my truck over to the side of the road, and rummaged about for my camera.  This was a glorious sight, and I wanted to share it.


But in the hustle and bustle of my busy morning, I had forgotten my camera at home.  I couldn’t capture the moment…  Without a photo, I knew I would probably just forget about the tree, like I forget about all the other little details in my busy life.


I missed it. 


I drove off and went on with my day and my work. But I continued to think about the small tree, laden with lights.  I couldn’t stop mulling it over, and how special and perfect it was.


Later, when I had a chance, I grabbed my camera and returned to the remarkable tree that had made such an impression on me.  I drove to the same spot, but couldn’t see it.


I parked, got out and tromped up and down the country road in my boots, scanning the scene for my special tree.  But all I saw were many trees, all heavily burdened with new snow, boughs dragging under the weight of it all.  Large trees, small trees, maple trees, birch trees, pine trees and spruce trees…  they all looked the same in the brightness of day.  Just a bunch of normal trees.  Nothing special.  When I did locate the “special” tree, it stood like all the others.  Just an offshoot of nature, carrying a lot of snow.   Burdened.


Then it clicked.  I began to understand why this tree was important, after all. 


We are just like the trees.  We stand around, minding our own business, carrying our burdens and problems like anyone else.  We are all the same.


When the troubles of night fall, and fog of worry rolls in, we are lost.  We are just a forest in the dark.  We don’t know where to turn or what is ahead.  We live in fear.  But sometimes,  a rare person comes into our lives of darkness, and dispels all the gloom.  A person of joy, a person of peace.  Someone special.  A person that somehow holds the light of Love within themselves, and lights our world with brilliance and hope.  




God is that light.   He shines within us who are ordinary.  He makes all things bright and holy, a living flame of Love in our souls.  We are the forest in darkness, and God is the Light.


I didn’t miss it, after all.




To the righteous a light is risen up in darkness:
He is merciful, and compassionate and just.


Psalm 112:4

Good Morning!  
It is my quest to share one moment of Love, Joy or Peace each day for 365 days...

So here it is, Folks:  One Moment in Day 9.

Yes, okay, it happened yesterday.  But some days, like yesterday, are so loaded with glorious moments that the joy overflows into many days.  I think that is the whole point of my 365 day challenge.  If we learn to find the joy, and hang on to it, the world will be a place of hope.   A place of peace.

I hope you find your moment today, too.

Click.  

This is the moment I want to share today.  
Just one moment in the frozen shire.  The morning is clear and crisp, full of possibilities.

Today is a gift.

​Hope.  
​
That's all we need sometimes.

Around me, the plants are dry and dead, like paper in the wind.  The ice is moving in.  
It is so dark, so much of the time, and always growing darker.  
Winter is coming, and it will be brutally cold.   With it, truckloads of trouble will fall from the sky, and I will have to shovel it for months.  I know it.
The world can be a wretched, cold place.

But when the sun rose this morning,  everything changed.

Bright colors splashed on the lake, ricocheting off the ice crystals in a joyous explosion of light.  Geese floated, weightless, like angels, through the shimmering glass of water and ice.  The air was crisp and fresh.  

I stood silently on the shore...
Breathing in the joy and the peace  and the hope.
I thought of dancing, but I am a clumsy oaf, and the neighbors were nearby.  
Instead, I laughed.  Out loud.  The joy bubbled up like music and my heart danced inside.
Swan Lake in my head, I glided with the heavenly geese, through the rosy atmosphere.

The world is a glorious place!

The next time you feel the ache of the weight of the world, think of a middle aged fuddy-duddy standing on the shore at sunrise.  Laughing.

I hope you can hear the music, too.

​

Okay, I know it's not even Thanksgiving yet...  But this just arrived in the mail, and I wanted to share it.  Guideposts has published their 2015 Edition of  "The Joys of Christmas", and inside is a story about Stella!  We're so excited!  This was the big Christmas photo shoot that I wrote about in June.  A great big thank you to my editor, Daniel Kessel, and to Guideposts editor-in-chief, Edward Grinnan, who writes about his brother, Bobby, in the notes from the editor.  Also many thanks to David Bowman Photography for patiently taking pictures.  
 Thank you all for sharing in the Joys of Christmas with us!

Small things matter.

Especially when the Big Things sometimes get out of control and overwhelmingly negative, 
small things matter.   

The daily news sometimes hits me like a ton of bricks, and I feel crushed by the pains of this world.  I can't write.  I can't paint.  Empathy hurts.  

“Are you crying about that, Mom?”  

Of course I am.

“You don’t even know those people!”

I don’t need to know them.  I see the homeless, the downtrodden, the oppressed, and I feel their sorrow.  Some great people feel called to action.  They become powerful and invigorated when they see others’ needs.  They are motivated to do great things and change the world for the better.  Dorothy Day, Mary Jo Copeland, Mother Teresa…  They are Real, they are Extraordinary, they are Magnificent. 

I’m not one of them.

I see suffering, and I just get knocked down to my knees.  But I am beginning to think that’s not only a bad thing.  Because on my knees, I am praying.  And only when I am on my knees can I see the small things that make all the difference.  

Small things are easy to overlook.   Like these dewdrops on the grass…


If I wasn’t on my knees, I never would have noticed them.  The veins in this beautiful Maple leaf show me that there is order and design here in the universe.  I didn’t make it.  I can’t understand it.  Certainly can’t control it.  But I don’t have to.  Even if I feel chaos or pain around me, those feelings do not sum up the entirety of the world.  News headlines cannot take away the perfection surrounding us.  
​
God is here, and He has it under control.  I just need to pay attention to the little things.

They are everywhere.  They are perfect.  Just as they always have been.

And that matters.

Last night, just as the sun began to set, I began a long drive home.    I don't often get to just sit and watch the sky, but last night was an exception.  I was a captive audience to the most amazing moon transformation!  I wasn't washing dishes, I wasn't putting kids to bed, I wasn't sorting paperwork or homework or planning for tomorrow.  For two and a half hours, I just watched the moon.  Well, and the roads, of course.  The roads were pretty deserted, because everyone else was busy sitting on their patios, watching the moon with their kids.   I called a friend to let her know how beautiful it was, and believe it or not, they had known in advance that the supermoon eclipse was coming.  They had their camera all set up already.  They probably even had popcorn.  

​I, apparently, was the only one on earth that didn't know it this was planned in advance.  Like everything else in life, it took me by surprise.  And I didn't have my camera with me.

​But I had coffee.  I had silence.  And I had the moon.   The night felt so ethereal and majestic;  I wanted to be part of it, be in it.  Being hermetically sealed in a metal car, looking through a window wasn't enough.  I wanted to fly, to feel the wind on my face, and breathe in the night...  

So I rolled down all my car windows, just in time to be flooded with a fog of fresh woodland skunk.
​Way to ruin my dreams of night flying.  
​Back in my sardine can.  The moon was glorious anyway, even when viewed through a window.

I made it home just before the moon disappeared completely under the red shadow... 
My kids and I watched the rest of the magnificent eclipse together, breathing in the damp dark air, laughing together in the glow of the moon.   No homework.  No skunks.

​And that's just the way I would have planned it.    

This week, I found five unexpected surprises in my yard.  

2.  Bleeding Hearts.  Every year, Dog makes a bed out of this plant, wrecking it entirely.  He starts out by losing his tennis ball nearby, and tears up the earth looking for it.  This plant has always gotten in his way, and become nothing but a sleeping mat for Dog.  And I always get angry.  But not this year.  This year we outsmarted him by enclosing the plant with rocks.  We win!

3.  Poison Ivy.  Yep.  This is what Dog chose to roll about and play in, since he couldn’t reach the Bleeding Hearts.  Dog has had two very soapy baths this week.  He was alternately pleased, unhappy, and confused.  We lose.

4.  I will never go out in the woods again.  This girl wasn’t afraid of my camera in the least.  I am the one who found her, and I am terrified.

5.  Someone planted a garden here, long ago.  It’s only when I am too busy to breathe that I get surprises like this.  When I have no time to weed the garden, when I just let the green little sprouts alone, the strangest and most beautiful surprises pop up.  Sometimes it’s good to be too tired to meddle.  Lovely Things happen all by themselves.  

What is the point of all this rambling, you ask?

I’m getting there.  

Usually I just write about the Love, Joy, and Peace that I find.  

And I do find it!  Even in the strangest places.

That doesn’t mean that other things don’t exist for me.  The proverbial Poison Ivy, black eyes, creepy spiders…everyone has them. 

But we all get to choose what we want to keep in our pockets and memories.  I want to remember the Love.  I want to cherish the smile and contentment of a girl who played hard and won.  I want to treasure Joy in the plant that actually survived the Dog!  I want to remember this blueish flower.  It’s unique and exciting, and I did nothing to create or nurture it.  It needed me to step aside and let it be, in Peace.  I can appreciate that. 

So now you know.  Love, Joy, and Peace are here, right in the middle of everything creepy.  

And you get to choose what you want to hold on to. 

Once upon a time, there was a woman.  She stayed home a lot, and the neighbors all thought she did nothing but eat bon bons, because she was quite soft and round.  She didn't have much to say.  Quiet type.  A little on the cranky side.

Once, when she wasn't home, a nosy neighbor peeked in the window, and this is what she found!  So that was her secret!  What a bunch of ugly children!

The nosy neighbor was chased away by an indignant and overprotective father.  Hmph.  He scolded and squawked.  

The parents fed their children a great deal, so they started to grow.  One child sported a mohawk.  He was judged by the neighbors to be spunky and rebellious.  Plus, he cried a lot.  

But soon, those babies grew, as all children do.  They always wanted more to eat.  The poor parents were kept running here and running there, always filling the bottomless pits of their children's appetites.  The parents began to appear a bit old and frazzled.  The mother worried a lot, her feathers grew thin.  The father continued to dive-bomb all birds who glanced anywhere in the direction of his daughters.  He chased all intruders away.  What a guy.  He was no longer considered a sharp-dressed man, now the neighbors rather considered him a grumpy old codger.

I think perhaps his daughters thought the same, though they never said so.   They loved him anyway.  He brought them the best of everything.

Not long after, the Mother found a new home further out in the sticks.  She fancied a bigger place.  More private and luxurious.

The parents worked for days, moving their children.  One after another, the little ones hopped out of the nest, and followed Mom and Dad to the new home. 

Little Mr. Mohawk was far more awkward than his siblings, and he flopped about a great deal.  It took Mom and Dad much cajoling and scolding to get him to move it.

In the end, that family did move away.  

The neighbors had grown rather fond of spying on them, and they miss them very much.  
I do hope they live happily ever after.

More signs of spring!  Hope you enjoyed the sunrise, too.

I have been too preoccupied and excited to write much lately.  The ice is finally melting!  

The caverns of ice and the dark places of the earth are disappearing, washing away downstream.  What began as a single trickle now melts even the thickest ice, the coldest corners.  Nothing can stop the sun and the light and the warm breath of spring.  May your heart feel the hope of Spring today...  

It is here!

Sometimes, you may not feel it.  Sometimes, you might even doubt it.
But you are loved.  
If you can't see the truth in this, then perhaps you are looking in the wrong spot.

Because everywhere I look, I see how much He loves you, and how much he wants you to know that he does.   It is written in the leaves, in the flowers, in the stars.

And if today, no one else tells you this, I want to be the one to give you the message.  To deliver your beautiful valentines.  To show you how much he cares.  
You are loved.  

He's whispering his love into the wind.  He's writing it into the woods.  Can you hear it? Can you see?

Then one foggy Christmas Eve...