Some of you have snow. Snow mounded along the roadside and piled high against the house. We've been longing...sighing...checking the weather...waiting for snow. We were an oasis of sun in the most recent storm that shut down Chicago and set records in Tulsa. The weather forecast today called for "flurries." It's been flurrying all day, accumulating only on the grass, melting and dripping in the middle of the day. Still...snow. Arden and I spent an hour outside, while the older kids worked, catching snowflakes, playing follow the leader and hiding from passing cars. He's chanting, still, "Tut, tut it looks like snow." As we wound our way around and around and around the yard, I noticed something. Spring.
|and hyacinth stars...|
|lavender's gray and snowy white...|
"So as I was coming home, these words came again into my thoughts;
and I well remember, as they came in, I said thus in my heart,
What shall I get by thinking on these two words?
This thought had no sooner passed through my heart,
but these words began thus to kindle in my spirit:
"Thou art my love, thou art my love,"
twenty times together; and still
as they ran in my mind they waxed stronger and warmer,
and began to make me look up;
but being as yet between hope and fear,
I still replied in my heart,
But is it true? but is it true?"
John Bunyan, Grace Abounding To the Chief of Sinners, Ch. 5