The dusting of snow this morning lightly covered our area. The tops of the cars concealed in white. The roof tiles accented with white. The evergreen shrubs sprinkled with white. The snow has mostly stopped by the time we got up today, but just as I look at the kitchen window several single flakes came swirling past the window.
It was as if God saved a few final flakes just for me to relish.
I guess because it rarely snows where we actually live; snow is such an event to me. I love the whole concept of snow. Granted if I had to live in it for days I may not feel the same way, but for now I love snow.
The idea of each individual snowflake being unique is mind boggling. Just the right weather conditions have to come together in order for it to snow. Snow is quiet. Snow reminds me of the value of silence. There is beauty in silence. Snow only occurs when it is just the right temperature.
Many years while teaching I would put up a bulletin board in my classroom that said ‘Think Snow’. I wanted my students to experience the magic of watching snow fall from the clouds. I wanted them to stand outside and stick out their tongues to catch a few chilling flakes of snow.
I guess snow brings feelings of joy for me. The snowflakes fall and twirl round gently blowing in the wind. They are so delicate, fragile, and beautiful. Just as God created each of us unique and beautiful.
As I look out of the bedroom window the snow is carefully piled in the elbow bend of each tree branch. This tree has come to represent our passage of time here in this place. It was first covered with small green leaves. Weeks later it shed all of its leaves. It stands bare branched. I can clearly see each of its branches large and small. They cannot hide behind the leaves.
Today these same bare branches have caught hold of the snow as if to say we are here. We have purpose. We have a function. I think this is something I am struggling with purpose and function. Am I useful? My function here is not the same as my function there. I feel departmentalized and fragmented at times. I cannot do all that I want to do…it is like being caught in a spider’s web. But yet I know I am doing here what I need to be doing.
The snow is no longer falling; everywhere I look tree branches are supporting the snow. Each branch supports tiny snowdrifts. This is my purpose here; I am to be a support. I have the supporting role in this place here in this place beside my spouse. I am in the supporting role in other areas of my life as well…I can see this now.
God wants me to be a support to as many people as I can both here and there. The tree outside our window is reminding me about what it means to be a support. Tree branches support the leaves, the flowers, the fruit sometimes, and even the occasional snowdrift. Only in the winter can you truly see the bare branches that support the tree. Support is often hidden and obscure, but still functioning maintaining its purpose.
In the entertainment world the role of supporting actress is also honored and rewarded. The supporting person complements the leading actor. I am supporting my husband, my family, my friends, my neighbors, my community.
The snow in the branches causes me to reflect on the supporting role of my life today.
The question I have for you today is…
What do you support?
A person…a cause…an idea…a concept…a dream?
Surely you do support something worthwhile in your life.
Soon the tree outside our window will be supporting brand new leaves. These branches will be the conduit for nutrients to reach the entire tree structure.