Blinding Snow

Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth. Psalms 46:10

The weatherman predicted record cold with moisture rising from the Gulf to meet the sinking arctic air. Snow was on every mind. Hurry to gather groceries, meet deadlines, check the woodpile and the flashlight batteries.

It started with the gathering of clouds and robins in the yard. The still, the quiet, the smell, it all said snow. Then a small twirling flake, and another, and another. Faster, thicker, the white fluff hung to grass and elbows of trees. Close the schools and make the last mad rush for milk and bread only to find empty shelves and long lines. Hurry home through driving snow, black snow. The speed of the car and the thick falling of the snow created a darkness that was blinding. But snow was white, light. How then this darkness, this blindness?

The speed of life does not wait to contemplate the Light, though the Light gently swirls around us every day. If we look below, it softly falls around our walk. If we look above, it lights gently on our faces. If we look straight ahead, the Light is there in every nook and corner of our lives. At the speed of life, Light is not allowed to shine, like the fear of the unknown, the confusion of being told of beauty without the ability to see. It is only when we take the time to Be Still that we can know that He is God. He is here to light our way, shine down on us and direct our paths.

How easily we forget and allow hurry and deadlines, woodpiles and the ever ready battery that runs our lives to keep us in darkness. Be still. Be still and know. Be still and know that I am God, He gently calls to us. 

Won’t you join in the conversation? Won’t you share what busy-ness hinders you from seeing the Light for your path? What ideas do you have to help us slow down and know that He is God?

Blessings,

Gail