Soaking in the sunlight

It seems like winter has lasted forever. I’m tired of scraping the windshield of my car every morning. I’m tired of taking off my wet shoes and then stepping, sock-footed, in a puddle of melting snow tracked in by someone else. I’m tired of not being able to tell what time of day it is because the view outside my window, all day long, is dreary and gray. And when the weather is like this, not only am I tired of it, I’m just tired.

But this week the sun has been shining, bicycles and running shoes have been dusted off, and people have gone outside. Neighbors walking past smile and wave; convertible tops and car windows are rolled down, music blaring — just because they can be. It’s still cold in the mornings, almost freezing, but by afternoon we’re stripped down to t-shirts, if not shorts and flip-flops. It’s probably really not warm enough for that, but it feels so good because we’ve suffered through months of cold and darkness. I normally don’t mind winter, but even I took advantage of the sunshine this week.

One morning as I prayed with the other women at ladies prayer group, I felt the Lord shining down upon us. I raised my face up, towards the warmth and light. And He showed me something. In the sun, we soak up vitamins and feel our health being restored. But, by basking in His light, our spiritual selves are restored. Our bodies get the nourishment they need. Our hopes are renewed, our attitudes are rejuvenated, our anger and sadness disappear. It’s even better than the way the sun feels falling on your bare, pale skin. It’s even better than getting off an airplane and heading to the beach to have the sun warm you all over. Because we don’t have to wait for the weather conditions to be just right, and we don’t have to travel to a specific tropical location. We can find this wherever we are, whenever we need it. Whether it’s sunny or gray, warm or cold, whenever you’re lonely or sad or tired or hurting, just turn your face to the Light. And let Him shine.

Transformed

This time of year in Indiana isn’t always beautiful. When the snow drifts just right, and the winter sunlight glints off the snow-covered branches, and when you take time to notice that the shadows from the corn stubble left in the field are a lovely bluish-purple, then yes, it can be called pretty. But much of the time, our winter landscape consists of drab browns — grass and weeds and plants that are dead and dry and crumbly, washed-out gray skies, and the stark pointy shapes of tree branches, bare of leaves, silhouetted against the sky. But the other morning, the scenery was breathtaking.

A dense white fog had settled onto the ground in the night, and though it had cleared in most areas, it left behind a beautiful white frost. Everything was covered. The crystals outlined each and every blade of grass, the fence posts and wires, the individual pine needles, the bushes and the plants and every single delicate branch of the trees. It was breathtaking. Suddenly, the blah landscape was transformed into a thing of remarkable beauty. Everything was a shade of white, with the lightest, purest white coming from the sun, trying to burn through the fog. Bluish-whites and grayish-whites and dull whites and sparkly whites; it was like looking at a magical, make-believe world. It was the same view that had been there the night before, the same as it had been all winter — except for one thing. The frost. That one little touch — that specific combination of temperatures and humidity and cloud cover and air pressure — made all the difference in the world. Suddenly, we were able to see everything in a new way.

We’re all products of our environment, if we let ourselves be. How quickly we pick up the prevailing mood or spirit — when good things happen, our outlook is positive and hopeful; when we’re confronted with trouble or anger or hatred, we respond in kind. In other words, we are changed, just as the landscape was — but are we changed in a good way? If we soak ourselves in the glory of God, if we let Him saturate our days, our minds, and our spirits, then His beauty will cling to us. His magnificence will outline our very beings, and we’ll walk around transformed, and people will see our individual attributes and formerly hidden beauty. But if we don’t surround ourselves with His presence, if we don’t immerse our lives in His grace and mercy and love, nothing will change. We’ll still remain drab, dull, and (frankly) not all that interesting. When Moses went up on the mountain to receive the Commandments, the glory of God settled like a cloud. When he came back, he wasn’t the same because the Spirit of God changed him. Next time you draw close to God, you have a choice to make: will you stay the same, or will you be transformed by His touch?

Snowbound

I look out my window at the snow softly piling up… overwhelmed with gratitude for my God, who created such gentle beauty. The snow keeps coming. The wind picks up, the visibility is diminished, the snow drifts into long glistening scallops, forming an unfamiliar landscape. People are in line at Wal-mart frantically buying milk and bread and eggs, certain that they’ll be snowed in by morning. I’m home, smiling every time I look out. Not because I love cold, and not because I want to be stuck at home, but because the weather is a tangible reminder to me of who is really in control.

Have you ever noticed that mankind has discovered amazing cures through medicine, that we have developed technology that will allow man to fly, that we are able to instantly transmit information across the world and explore the ocean depths and far reaches of space – yet we can’t control something as basic as the weather? We can’t even accurately predict it. Hurricanes, tornadoes, ice and sleet, hail – we are at their mercy. 12 hours of falling snow can trap us in our homes for days, stop transport of food and other supplies, close down businesses, bring our daily lives to a standstill. Every time I see another example of extreme weather, I give thanks. I humbly tell my God how much I love Him and how thankful I am that He is in control. The Mighty One who can command storms and move unseen winds is the same One who gently cradles me in His arms when I need comfort. He is the One who bottles up my tears, who woos me with His love. And He is the same One who has power and ability beyond anything I can fathom.

I think the weather serves to remind us that there are things mankind simply cannot do. We must rely on our Creator and trust in His power. So when you hear snow plows passing in the night, or get phone calls about school being canceled, relax in the knowledge that our God, our Creator, our King choreographed each flake of snow and directed the gusts of wind that sculpted them into impassable hills. He knows every detail of the weather, just as He cares about every detail of our lives. So wrap up in something warm, sit back, and watch God’s work with wonder and gratitude. (written Feb. '07)