In the quiet beauty

Yesterday Ben said the ground had thawed so much it smelled like Spring. The grass was green this morning and now this is what we see outside our house. I have a million things I should be doing, but I can't stop watching the snow flakes as they fall down. They're coming down almost ferociously now. I can't get over how many snowflakes there are...and those are just the ones I can see over our house in this little town in Ohio.
I was pressed all week to be patient with three and a half year old Z and I realized that to be patient with him is really to forgive little inconveniences...over and over and over. I suppose one could say that about kindness, love and peace and all the other fruit of the spirit. That constant forgiving each other, letting go of wrongs and moving on because the relationship is so much more important, or because that's what someone else did for us.

When I look outside and up up into the falling snow and in between the big flakes nearby I see millions upon millions of tiny flakes on their way down. Snowflakes are ice crystals that form around floating bits of dirt. In the quiet falling of these beautiful crystals, I am reminded of God's quiet patience with me as if every flake represents a sin I've committed...or am going to commit. Bits of dirt in my life that He's covered, made beautiful somehow, and blankets the Earth, so all you see is beauty.

...it's after dinner now, it's dark out and it's still snowing. It's supposed to snow tomorrow too. Thank you, God, for the snow and for Your forgiveness, Your patience with me. Thank you for Your future forgiveness too, for tomorrow's snow, that I know I'll need.