|Crocus Hiding in Snow|
I wake up to a snowfall. The forest that just yesterday made a glorious, boastful display of buds and bird nests and bullfrogs now stays silent, keeping secrets.
It's deathly quiet on the way to school. Snow buries the crocus and daffodil shoots. Oh, that I could bear the weight of a hidden life with such grace! Oh, that I could see the beauty in this tomb of snow when I was expecting Spring's grand performance!
What if we are hidden away at the moment when we're supposed to bloom?
The temptation to be seen, to be public and praised, to be recognized and valued loses its power when I think about what it means to be hidden.
Later, I stand in my kitchen. I'm crying about hidden things: the years behind us and the years ahead of us of invisible labor. We do beautiful things today that nobody awards or congratulates.
But God sees. Being a hidden treasure is a way to live with flair. And the scriptures teach that God "who sees what is done in secret, will reward you."
Journal: How is a life hidden in Christ our greatest blessing?