Pure and white and amazing. It's still coming down thick, and the wind is still blowing hard. Some of the most beautiful sights I can remember involve snow. Some of my favorite memories involve snow. There's so much tied with it, I can't begin to describe them all.
There's just something about the world hidden away by a swirling blanket of purest white, the sky itself swept from view by the falling flakes of perfection, no two alike, no two the same. There's something seemingly perfect about it. What could be better than sitting comfortably in one's house with a cup of hot chocolate; or than skiing through fresh snow with more drifting down from the white blur of sky above? This is happiness embodied.
And yet (I hate to take a turn this way after that picture of beauty, but I feel I must) - and yet there are two men who have almost certainly died on Mount Hood because of this "beauty." Another confirmed. Three families grieving. Pray for them. Pray that those men make it out if they're still alive; pray for their families to have peace regardless. Pray that if those men have passed on, their families will be comforted.
I wonder, sometimes, at this existence. So very often beauty is set in contrast with pain and death. And so very frequently suffering is juxtaposed with the amazing. Why is that? Why does every good thing have to be mingled with sorrow? Equally perplexing, why is every tragedy tempered with some hint of beauty? It doesn't make any sense. In fact, nothing makes sense. Without an understanding of Joy...
Joy is that ineffable, inexpressible contentment and satisfaction that defies all explanation, that remains despite every emotion screaming louder than you ever thought possible. It's the knowledge that you are loved - and that unchanging, unshakeable. It's the rock-solid awareness that the One who has promised is rock-solid and His promises are solid as rock. It's peace. And peace is joy. And - like love - they are a choice. Daily, a choice.'
This post has rambled. I don't know what I'm really trying to say here, other than to reflect on what God has done, on who He is... in the snow, and in the grief it causes. He is. He is joy. He is peace. He is love. He is rock, unchanging, solid and reliable. In the beauty of the snow, and the suffering of families grieving. It doesn't seem to matter what I'm looking at, that's what I come back to: God is; He is enough; He is more than enough. May our Father bless you all, and good night.
- Chris
There's just something about the world hidden away by a swirling blanket of purest white, the sky itself swept from view by the falling flakes of perfection, no two alike, no two the same. There's something seemingly perfect about it. What could be better than sitting comfortably in one's house with a cup of hot chocolate; or than skiing through fresh snow with more drifting down from the white blur of sky above? This is happiness embodied.
And yet (I hate to take a turn this way after that picture of beauty, but I feel I must) - and yet there are two men who have almost certainly died on Mount Hood because of this "beauty." Another confirmed. Three families grieving. Pray for them. Pray that those men make it out if they're still alive; pray for their families to have peace regardless. Pray that if those men have passed on, their families will be comforted.
I wonder, sometimes, at this existence. So very often beauty is set in contrast with pain and death. And so very frequently suffering is juxtaposed with the amazing. Why is that? Why does every good thing have to be mingled with sorrow? Equally perplexing, why is every tragedy tempered with some hint of beauty? It doesn't make any sense. In fact, nothing makes sense. Without an understanding of Joy...
Joy is that ineffable, inexpressible contentment and satisfaction that defies all explanation, that remains despite every emotion screaming louder than you ever thought possible. It's the knowledge that you are loved - and that unchanging, unshakeable. It's the rock-solid awareness that the One who has promised is rock-solid and His promises are solid as rock. It's peace. And peace is joy. And - like love - they are a choice. Daily, a choice.'
This post has rambled. I don't know what I'm really trying to say here, other than to reflect on what God has done, on who He is... in the snow, and in the grief it causes. He is. He is joy. He is peace. He is love. He is rock, unchanging, solid and reliable. In the beauty of the snow, and the suffering of families grieving. It doesn't seem to matter what I'm looking at, that's what I come back to: God is; He is enough; He is more than enough. May our Father bless you all, and good night.
- Chris
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