When I stepped out into the quiet night air recently, I was struck by the simple beauty of a slow-falling, thick-flake, wet-heavy spring snow. I rested in that moment. It was peaceful. It was perfect.
I look for things like that when I'm struggling. Those miniature vacations that take me away from reality. They're gifts, I know - answers to my prayers. And, if I'm not paying attention, I miss them ... and, far too often, I do miss them.
It's not always like that, though. He doesn't always bring me that spring snow. Sometimes He brings me a storm. Sometimes He brings me precisely what I feel like I am not asking for. It doesn't feel good, and it doesn't make sense, and yet - somehow - it leads me exactly where I need to go.