Snowfall
Last night after I went to bed, it started to snow. There was no sign it was going to snow the day before. In fact, it had warmed up to 40 degrees and rained most of the day, and the dirty vestiges of the last snowfall had all been washed away, leaving behind a dormant brown landscape.
When I woke at 5 AM and looked outside, yesterday's lifeless landscape was now a pristine, shimmering white. I thought, How beautiful! The world has been transformed overnight while I slept. It's kind of like God's grace, falling silently with no one noticing, yet quietly remaking everything from bleak to beautiful.
These are far more lofty thoughts than are typical for me, especially before my first cup of coffee, but I had been struggling and as a result, in a reflective state of mind. I had been away from home and family for weeks now, focused almost exclusively on caregiving tasks that, at times, could be emotionally and physically draining. I had developed the habit of looking outdoors in the morning while I made my coffee, searching for small magical moments of beauty. At this time of day, I'm the only one awake and the house is still. Several mornings I watched a group of deer who would sleep in the backyard, their curled sleeping forms slowly taking shape in the pre-dawn light. The deer are so ubiquitous that most people find them annoying, but I was fascinated by them and loved the fact that I could observe their habits in such proximity.
On this morning, there are no deer, but there is this unexpected snowfall bringing a soft light to an otherwise gray morning. To me, it's a gift.
Sitting down with my first cup of coffee, I pick up one of the books that I often dip into for morning reflection, "Aspects of the Heart" by Joan Chittister. I open to a random page and land on a passage entitled, "A Heart for Nature." How fitting! This kind of synchronous event happens fairly often, but it never ceases to amaze me.
The passage opens with this quote,
"The trees and the stones will teach you what you never learn from the masters."
- Bernard of Clairvaux
And in her reflection, Joan Chittister writes,
"To cultivate an appreciation of nature is to deepen our own spiritual life... To live in harmony with nature is to be more alive ourselves. Our synchronicity with nature is demonstrated by the emotional effect it has on us. ... It is seeing ourselves as part of nature rather than outside of it that attunes the soul to the teachings of nature."
So what teachings of nature have been bestowed on me this morning? To discover in nature a metaphor for God's grace - that in itself is a gift. And to realize that grace may arrive, silently and unexpectedly, while the world sleeps, while I sleep. For that, I am grateful.