As I walk the country road by my home, fluffy, fat snowflakes drift and swirl in front of my plodding steps. Squinting against the bright glare of the gray-white winter sky, I raise my face to welcome the cooling kisses of the gentle flakes. What beauty God has created!
A winter wonderland is spread out before me. Trees dripping with icicles, snow clinging to icy branches and sliding off to form miniature snow banks on the branches below, the creaking and groaning of frozen branches as they shake hands with their neighbors then pull back, only to reach out and connect again and again--all combine to make a symphonyÖpaint a canvasÖGodís artwork on display.
Itís an early January morning and my breath forms smoky puffs as I trudge through the accumulating snow. Icicles seem to be forming inside my nose as I breathe the icy air. The moisture on my eyelashes keeps trying to freeze and I can feel the tiny crystals forming each time I blink. Itís cold, I think, and if I had any brains at all, Iíd be home with a good book, in my favorite chair, with a cup of hot chocolate and a snuggly, warm afghan wrapped around me.
Yeah, if I were smart, thatís where I would be.
With a sigh, I turn towards home wondering why I ventured out into the frozen tundra on such a bitterly cold morning. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of movement. I stand silent for a moment, my eyes trained on that rustling brush on the edge of the field. Slowly and majestically, a huge buck breaks cover and strides regally out into the open, not 50 feet from where I stand. He is magnificent! He is beauty on the hoof!
With a brief sniff at the air, he glides across the frozen ground, leaving a trail of steam from his back streaming out in his wake. I must have gasped, for he stopped and looked, seeming to look right at me, tiny wisps of steam escaping from his nostrils and wafting up from his back. What a picture he makes, standing there at full attention, the perfect picture from Godís Hand. He lowers his head slightly, perfectly displaying a ten-point rack of antlers: a hunterís dream, a photographerís heaven. If he knows Iím there, he feels no threat and calmly and quietly picks his way across the field and into the adjoining woods.
I remain motionless for several minutes after the trees swallow him. I am awed by the Creatorís artwork! The artistry displayed for me on this morning takes my breath away! The blood hums through my veins as I eagerly rush home to record what Iíve just seen. Will He bless me with the words to express His wonders with pen and paper? Clouds of downy snow puff up as my hurried strides take me to my own white canvas for sketching the beauty and wonders of this world. My soul sings with the joy of experiencing Godís artwork! Everywhere I look, the wonders of the Master Artist are on display. What an incredible gift Iíve been given on this frosty morning. Catching me unaware, wondering about my own good sense, He had a purpose and blessed me with His art, to inspire my own. What an amazing God!
Walking into my blissfully warm and welcoming home, eagerly anticipating escape into the wonderful world of words, I realize, with sudden clarity and wonder, thatÖIíve just left the Sistine Chapel of my Lord.
Father God, Creator of all, bless pen and ink to draw word pictures of Your art, to display what You will, so all will come to know You. Thank You for the Gift of You!
Elegantly descriptive. It is a pleasure to read a writer who is far more advanced in the craft then I am at this point. I apprectiate the kind words from someone with your credentials in one of your reviews. God Bless!