Perspective
Thank you for the holly tree at my window. The red berries with the snow are absolutely beautiful. All of creation, softly screams, “You are God, Lord, Master, Creator, Savior, everlasting….the awesome I Am”. Thank you for leading me to choose to praise you for the beauty of the snow on the holly bush at my kitchen window instead of fussing over ruined belongings that were left on the patio table at the back door.
It goes without saying that two dozen different scenarios stomped around my brain. Their steps were so loud that it was easy to discount the rapid fire of apologies that came from each family member that had not only put my things on the table, but left them there after being asked to bring them in. Screaming would not change the fact that my notebooks were soaking wet. Angry tears threatened and then forced themselves to the edges of my eyelids. Why didn’t I check behind them? Why didn’t someone take care of me the way that I take care of them? No need to rehearse the whys; find something constructive to do.
Washing dishes is always a great diversion. You become invisible when you wash dishes. You can cry, pray, fuss (to yourself) and solve all of the world’s problems while standing in front of the sink. Dishes are a marvelous diversion and you can count on the fact that at my house there are always “diversions” lounging in the kitchen sink. As I began to depopulate the contents of the sink and review my losses something wonderful happened. My mind wandered from the insensitivity of my family to the majesty less than a yard from my nose. The frosty fluff just outside the kitchen scattered as a little wren attempted to land on a frozen limb. The crystal covering that remained on the berries served as a magnifying glass and as the timid sunlight brushed its surface—a simple holly bush became a work of art.
The kitchen was quiet. My family shared their condolences regarding my disparaged paperwork and moved on quickly so as not to be drawn into the dish detail. Oh, they usually help but, they know that there are times when the dishes serve as therapy and none of them would want to interfere with the therapeutic process. The warm sudsy water and the flight of a perky feathered friend had diverted my attention to a grander scheme.
It’s snowing on my little green hill, it’s snowing. All of a sudden the same destructive force that ruined my papers was welcomed and wonderful. With my daughter and husband as willing recruits, we went out to construct the perfect snowman (snowwoman), complete with Spanish moss hair and scaly arms compliments of the stately long leaf pine that cover this part of the country. My grandsons joined us later making snow angels and throwing snowballs. My world for this small block of time was pristine and perfect.
Thank you, Lord for providing the sense and self control to run to the dishes instead of into a tirade. Thank you for dusting the south with snow. It was short-lived but just fantastic. You did a lovely job with the holly bush by the way. Thank you for not allowing my hurt feelings to become weapons of mass destruction to be used against my precious family. Certainly, changing a human heart is a bigger miracle than designing a lovely tree with crimson berries or pushing crystals of frozen fluff from of the edge of Heaven.
We all know that snowmen or snowwomen must have smiles. We considered our options and then my daughter headed to the holly bush. The red berries would be just the thing to bring a smile to this frozen face. Well of course, the holly berries, they had already done a remarkable job of warming a very cold heart.