Freeze. Frost. Cold and crystalline. The remaining blooms have fallen over with blackened flesh and depleted energy stores. Leaves have drifted down and others remain, clinging to their life source for a few more weeks. My steps are no longer crunchy, the fallen are now saturated, cold and slippery.
The sky was a brilliant blue this morning, a warm and welcoming contrast from the silver-toned earth. The only sound I heard was the clip-clopping of hooves on the road over yonder … neighbors going early to church. Time is passing, seasons changing. It continues, a constant slipping away in the midst of every living moment.
Old and used, the remains of a warming fire scooped up. I had cleaned the stove and filled the bucket, casting the gray powder aside for disposal. The living moments of wood, their propensity to provide heat now gone. Energy burned and departed in rising smoke. I noticed the bucket as I stepped onto the porch from my trip through the frost. I saw the joyful hands. He had made his mark at some point when I wasn’t looking. He noticed a barren surface void of meaning or happiness.
He added his own … his handiwork apparent.
A message in the ashes. My son’s hand prints reminding me that nothing, absolutely nothing, is exempt from God’s loving presence. He calls to each of us from the sparkling water droplets frozen on blades of grass; from the blue sky of morning and the cloud that hangs in the air with each breath we take. He wants our undivided attention … Notice me. I notice every single thing about you.
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, And do not return there without watering the earth, And making it bear and sprout, And furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater; So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; It will not return to Me empty, Without accomplishing what I desire. And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it. For you will go out with joy and be led forth with peace; The mountains and the hills will break forth into shouts of joy before you, And all the trees of the field will clap their hands. ~ Isaiah 55:10-12
Today let’s look around … notice … and clap our hands in joy.