“The earth is art, the photographer is only a witness ”
― Yann Arthus-Bertrand, Earth from Above
The change of seasons is a vertical event in the mountains. We can watch the snow-line descend from the peaks, to the hills, to the valley. We can see it coming, yet we are somehow caught by surprise when ice and snow cover our own doorstep. The first snow that stays brings forth Facebook chatter like the queen has suddenly arrived unannounced. Skiers are thrilled, shovellers -not so much. (In these parts some folks complain bitterly about the cold and hazards of walking on ice. Others are giddy at the gleeful possibilities of ice fishing or skiing and being surrounded by pristine blue-white beauty.)
It amuses me that every year is the same; we can see it coming, but we are always caught off guard and need to dig boots and mitts and shovels out of their summer hiding places.
There are spiritual seasons too. We know there are changes in the air; we know there will be times for planting, and harvest, and times for rest. We can see cycles of learning and testing and play, and cycles of birth, growth and death ascending and descending the mountains around us. We need not be surprised, but we do need to be prepared. The day adversity arrives, piled up like blizzard snow against the front door, is not the day to think about buying snow tires, or a shovel.
We need to seek the Lord in the good seasons of our lives as well as the tough times -because knowing that He loves us and holds our future in His hands is the main tool we have to have in an accessible place in our hearts to survive more difficult seasons. (He gives many others as well.) Those who understand that change is a constant can rejoice with every new thing, and when adversity descends like winter, they may even be able to strap on their skiis or grab their sleds and find the joy.
There are two ways of getting out of a trial. One is simply to try to get rid of the trial, and be thankful when it is over. The other is to recognize the trial as a challenge from God to claim a larger blessing than we have ever had, and to hail it with delight as an opportunity of obtaining a larger measure of divine grace. -A.B. Simpson
Sometimes rest is one of the attributes of God we find most difficult to understand. He is at rest. And He wants us to enter His rest.
To be honest, I find one of the most difficult things to do, especially in crisis, is to rest. I’m not just talking about sleeping, which I am notoriously bad at, but about resting spiritually, like a soothed child in my papa’s lap, trusting him to look after me, and waiting for his instructions. Some of the worst messes I have created have been when I’ve tried to control my anxiety by “doing something.”
Today my dear friend is in the ICU after emergency surgery. Again, I feel the frenzied urge to “do something.” Again I am snapping at my husband over trivial things, knowing full well my anxious thoughts are the cause, and not his human foibles. Again I hear the still small voice telling me to enter His rest, to give my time and attention to the One who loves my friend more than I do.
Resting my heart and mind in Christ, entering His presence with thanksgiving and allowing His peace to stand guard is like feeling the gentle snow calm my anxious thoughts, cool my embarrassing temper, and hush my worries. It’s about trust.
Don’t worry over anything whatever; tell God every detail of your needs in earnest and thankful prayer, and the peace of God which transcends human understanding, will keep constant guard over your hearts and minds as they rest in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7)
Like Snow
This song has been going through my head like a prayer today.
“The word comfort is from two Latin words meaning “with” and “strong” – He is with us to make us strong. Comfort is not soft, weakening commiseration; it is true, strengthening love.”