hidden glory

Sunday, February 12, 2006

winter glory

I took this picture an hour ago of a corner on my street. Normally, I wouldn't bring my camera on a walk through the neighborhood. And on a cold February day, I probably wouldn't take a walk through the neighborhood at all! I'm a wimp when it comes to the cold--and I much prefer exercise in the gym over braving the elements from about November through March.

As a South Carolina girl deep inside, I still get giddy about a good snow. (which this 12"+ Nor'easter certainly qualifies as!) I remember the sheer delight of awaking on one morning in South Carolina to a landscape blanketed in snow: my first "big snow" which didn't come until I was 8 years old...and the last "big snow" until I went to college in Chicago. That's probably why snow has maintained its magical quality. It wasn't until moving to Philadelphia last year that I discovered what a hassle snow can be because almost everything continues as normal...and so you have to bundle up, head outside, and shovel within a few hours of waking. All "magic" quickly fades away into back-breaking labor that is guaranteed to leave you sore the next morning and partially frost-bitten.

If you're caught in this (as I tend to be now that I'm acclimated to Philly), I invite you to stop and try to take a second look at this landscape outside your window. It is a picture of redemption.

What is the beauty of a winter landscape without snow? Non-existent...at least in my book! The browns, grays, and blacks just don't call out to me, "GLORY!" (in fact, I more often hear them say--"stay inside & sleep--hibernate till spring") It's nothing to look at, revel in, call attention to.

But then snow begins to fall. Flake by flake covering over the monochromatic wintry world. Clothing it in beauty...mysteriously, dare I say MAGICALLY transforming it into "beautiful." Was it beautiful before? Not really...or perhaps its beauty was hidden. Hidden until the snow came to cover up its ugliness and make it beautiful. Something that people write poems about, draw pictures of, even dare to delight in through sledding or snow-angels or a walk in an otherwise ordinary neighborhood.

I suggest an analogy. We are like that bare landscape until Love finds us. It exposes our glory that was otherwise hidden. Redeeming us by offering His own beauty for our barrenness.


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home