I always try to remember how I feel in the fall when the first blanket of snow covers the ground. I love the first snow fall of the year. I love that fresh snow smell, catching blowing snowflakes in my mouth, hearing it crunch slowly under my boots, and noticing how quiet it seems to be without the birds singing before the sun comes up. I don't think about how there will be five more months of having to scrape the car, shovel the walkways/driveway, and having to put a bunch of uncomfortable layers on so I don't freeze to death. I love the newness of winter.
I sometimes wonder if my relationship with God is like the first snowfall...but then the snow is still around in March as well... I don't want to get into all of the analogies we have all heard Sunday morning at church... but when God reveals himself in a new way to me, I love the way it smells, tastes, and looks. It changes me. After awhile, once you know that mystery about him, you never loose it, it just becomes less of a mystery. It becomes part of your everyday living, but the newness of it wears down. Maybe we lack the gratitude to keep the awe factor there. Maybe we are now comfortable in that which once made us so excited.
I just wish that every quality that I know of God, every moment I have experienced in Him could be experienced like the first snowfall...
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