Winter white

It's April and the snow just keeps coming. I can't escape the analogies out my window every day. Snow covering mud, the old deer carcass on the front lawn, the mighty roaring rivers through the culverts from all the melting. Snow settles over all and the earth quiets and stills beneath her blanket. All ugliness is forgotten and lies buried invisible again.

Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause. “Come now, let us reason together," says the Lord: "though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool. If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land; but if you refuse and rebel, you shall be eaten by the sword; for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” (Isaiah 1:16-20)

The red road to Galilee is covered with white. The bloodiness of weeks past is covered over by God's infinite grace.

Choices monumental mark this road of forgiveness. Will I accept it, as freely as it was offered? Can I find the strength to seek joy and to do good, to turn from my own oppression and free others in the turning? 

Easter in the snowdrifts. Bright colors dancing across the white driveway up to family celebration. I can hear each tiny snow crystal hit the ground, dance up off it and fall again to become part of the earth's down comforter on April 11th. Slowly each little crystal melts from the warmth of the earth below, and all become one, and then will be the melting, and the joining with the roaring rivers through the culverts and rushing out onto the fields to make ready for planting. I long to join. To become one with the One great love our world has known. To rush out to make ready for the planting and the harvest. I turn quiet and stoic, exhausted but ready. For such a time as this I have endured.