A few weeks ago, we woke to a blanket of white. About 8 inches of fresh and powdery snow fell unexpectedly in our home town.
I remember being struck by the quiet hush early that morning as I opened the front door to take in the morning air and snap a picture. It was a deep and heavy stillness that hung all around. It was so magical; like the morning held a secret it was holding back unsuccessfully as it kept erupting with the soft giggles of falling branches and tinkling ice covered limbs.
I find my soul longing for that level of deep, heavy, magical stillness each New Year. I want to walk alone in a snow covered forest with the morning sun sparkling on everything I see. I want to pray and commune with my Saviour; to be refreshed by some Living Water.
But often my New Year finds me already weary from holidays recently passed. I’m still trying to clean up and reorder the chaos, grasping for some order in my home and heart.
Even though it looks rather unlikely that my quiet walk in a snow-covered and tree laden forest will be my reality this year (or anytime in the future!), I am still longing and reaching. Still thirsting and weary. Still anticipating beauty, stillness and well…magic. Praying the peace of God will descend, dwell in me richly and surpass what I can understand. I’m almost ready in my head and heart for a new year. Almost…