Undisturbed Snow

There is something sacred about undisturbed snow. It sparkles so beautiful and is full of possibilities, like a blank sheet of paper in my journal. Yesterday I looked out at the cemetery at the undisturbed snow. It made it look so holy, so consecrated, so peaceful.

For just a second the enemy tried to whisper guilt. I shook him off. I have been a widow for 12 years. I know that undisturbed snow at my husband's grave is no reflection of my love for him or the amazing marriage we had. This year I felt drawn to the roadside memorial.



I disturbed the snow there, though since then more has fallen. I didn't shed any tears when I cleared off the garden stone and cross that sits stolidly in the ditch. A reminder of a tragic night. Many lives changed forever. A memorial for a good man whose name I want remembered.

No tears came. That's okay. It is no reflection on the depth of my love. Just an outward sign of the Lord's amazing healing within. I kneeled in the snow and thanked Jim, and the Lord, for the amazing gifts he gave me. My three sons and his family. And the Lord's amazing faithfulness to us.



A friend text me this today: "Your Grace and incredible Faith is such an inspiration to me and a million others!!! Thank you for letting and keeping your light shining."



My reply sums up my widowhood: "Thanks girl! Great grace given for a great loss. Faith just from clinging to Jesus through the pain. Never would have sign up for this journey. Don't wish it on anyone. Yet the Lord in His wisdom allowed it for my good & His glory. May all you look at me see Him."



The undisturbed snow sparkles like glitter. It twinkles in the light like my Jim's eyes did when he laughed. The snow lays like a fleece blanket of comfort over the final resting place of a beloved man. It is peaceful. Sacred. Holy. Full of possibilities. In the future and in heaven.