This morning a powdery layer of snow blanketed the lawnscape around our facility. The white veneer of a snowfall always transforms the land, but there was a stark difference today between the lawn and the puddled parking lot. Habit would have had me make the brief transit across asphalt to the building where I work. But a childlike notion, instinct, urged me to step from my vehicle onto the grass, where a thousand thousand tiny points of reflected light rejoiced at my arrival.
Tomorrow, after the risen sun wages war on those defenseless icy flakes, the parking lot will again yawn at my return. But today nature surprised me, and beckoned me from preoccupation. I was reminded that daily God speaks, angels dance, and another dimension swirls around us always offering holiday perspective. Most days habit gets us through, but other days instinct can take us into Sacred territory.
William Seymour