Friday, February 4, 2011

Sweet Serenity

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful snow. It is coming down in fat white flakes, blanketing the entire world into ethereal silence, softening roughened edges, soothing the earth from its frantic comings and goings, bringing all these struggles to a soft but definitive halt until there is no choice but to pause, and in pausing, see the glory that is the world snowbound and awestruck. I could watch it fall all day, my soul intrigued by how I can see a single flake touch its landing spot and sit, individual and yet part of the whole. I wish I could take a cozy reading chair and ottoman out into the middle of it and simply be part of it forever. I cannot describe adequately how it quiets me inside and out. It both brings Joseph back and yet calms me that he has gone on, somehow making it all seem infinite and purposeful and wise. When I wonder how Heaven could possibly contain all the souls that have ever lived on earth and find myself doubtful and crazy with the incomprehensibilities of faith, I can find moments like these, when the immediate world around me alone encompasses masses and masses of individual snowflakes that as a whole make something so lovely, so soft, bring a certain serenity about my misgivings and frantic mental wanderings. It will not last all day and may not come again for a year or more, but right now the earth is a frosted cupcake wonderland and my mind is at peace, neither wondering nor worrying where Joseph is now. In view of what is happening outside, I can believe in Eternity for every individual and I can believe in a peace beyond my understanding. I have seen a lot of snow in my life and it still touches me with its simplistic majesty.

3 comments:

karen gerstenberger said...

I love reading this.

Karen said...

Soooo beautiful. I so related to your angst AND your calm. Isn't it a challenging journey trying to soothe your soul after a child leaves? I agree about the snow, though. It does it just about as well as it can be done. So full of quiet, peace, eternity, hope. Thanks for writing out what I feel, too.

Mary Potts said...

This is beautiful, and I feel very much the same way when I watch the snow fall. My daughter, Erin, died from Ewing's sarcoma a little over a year ago, and she loved snow. I feel such peace as I watch it now...