Lessons in the frost

One morning last winter I awoke to heavy frost encasing the trees outside my window. The juxtaposition of frozen coldness and fragile filaments of beauty reminded me again of the wonders of the created world. What struck me most that day, however, was the heaviness created by the jungle of frost-encrusted branches. Unadorned, the same twigs, though very visible, were easy to overlook. The bulky overcoat they wore that day gave them a weighty presence that could not be ignored.

Life is much the same - complex, intricate, a tangle of branches and twigs - all reaching, going, growing out from the roots imbedded and unseen below the surface. At times the complexities, though visible, go un-noticed as we focus on the mundane matters of daily life. At other times the reality of the tangle of events, emotions, choices, and relationships that comprise this existence we call life seem overpowering in their presence.

I watched on that wintry day as the sun eased its way above the frozen horizon and touched the frosty, grey trees. The response was subtle but immediate. Cold heaviness transformed into irridescent majesty. Fragments of colour danced, sparkled, and glistened in a unified celebration of life.

How like God in His grace to dress every aspect of our complex lives with the splendor of His purposes, His love, and His forgiveness.

Ever-enlarging enough

"There are good things God must delay giving until his child has a pocket to hold them... He must first make him fit to receive and to have. There is no part of our nature that shall not be satisfied - and satisfied no by lessening it, but by enlarging it to embrace and ever-enlarging enough." George MacDonald