|Snow Storm Coming|
I had already let my daughter frolic outside in flip-flops with butterflies on them.
I had already pulled out the spring clothes and encouraged my children to splash in puddles of warm melted snow.
The weather report said a huge snow storm was coming, but I refused to believe it. They said 7 inches. They said even the University would shut down for the morning.
|Snow on the Winterberry|
I look out the kitchen window, and it's here, right on my winterberry bush. We have no choice but to stay inside.
The girls build elaborate block castles--not out of boredom, but of opportunity.
It's not every day that you're snowed in. I learn that the oldest has built a "Cloister Portal," and the little one has made her own "Observation Tower."
I take pictures of the structures. I'm fascinated by the designs. A Cloister Portal represents a beautiful concept. A cloister refers to a place of seclusion, for spiritual purposes, and a portal refers to the grand entrance into this location.
As I sit secluded indoors (not even making it to the skating rink), I remember this: When nothing in my life looks like it's supposed to, and when my world doesn't follow the expected course, perhaps I'm to think of this time as my own God-given cloister portal, my own observation tower. From up here, the seclusion teaches me how a beautiful winter storm (when it's nearly Spring) actually blesses.
It's a portal--my grand entrance--into the life God has for me.
I snuggle into the rocking chair and realize it's not too bad to be snowed in. There's beauty in this cozy room, too. There's opportunity here. I look down, and I realize that Jack has stretched a paw out in my direction as he sleeps by the heater. I love that little paw.
|Jack's Paw While it Snows Outside|
Journal: How can I learn to see opportunity instead of delay or disaster?