"Oh, look how beautiful!" I said to Howard at the awesome beauty of the trees outlined with snow. We had just driven to the country to take care of our chickens at our son's farm. We'd had less snow in town on this New Year's day or else it just was more noticeable out here. My dull mood brightened immediately at the postcard-worthy scene. We had been at loose ends on a gray, uneventful day, my husband taking a long nap and my not settling on anything I wanted to do after last night's festive mood of New Year's Eve..
But this was breathtaking! Every stark branch and trunk on dozens of bare, wintery trees was etched in black and white, turned into a work of art by God's design. "I wish I had a camera!" I said wistfully, to which Howard reminded me, "You do! On your phone!" Oh, yes, but I'd only tried it a couple of times. I got some shots, but I wasn't sure if anyone received them. Soon our son drove up, saying he would get some pictures.
One tree, especially, took my eye. It was bent almost horizontally to the ground, its huge, curved trunk providing an easy climb for our grandkids on ordinary days, especially with the short ladder leaning against it. Now it took on the contours of a daring playground slide. A little more snow, and the children could have made use of the big, sturdy sled their father had hammered together for them from scrap lumber on the property.
With no special plans, we impulsively stopped at a country cafe where several hunters in camouflage met us as they trooped out the door. We had a satisfying bowl of thick-brothed ham and beans with cornbread, fried potatoes and an obligatory side of black-eyed peas--comfort food on this bleak, early-winter day. (We'd had the same thing at our son's house last night when he had made a delicious meal. And to think I had declined the offer to take some home with me!)
Looking at Facebook later, I saw the news that a young friend's grandfather had passed away. Sending my condolences to her, I was shocked when she replied that it was her dad's father, someone we had been good friends with years ago in Mississippi,and about our age! He and his wife had been our older teens' youth leaders in a church they, another family, and we had started back then, which is strong even today. So many memories! Although we hadn't seen him in many years, it was inconceivable that he was gone, the second friend passing in as many days!
The trees, stripped of all appearance of life and mere silhouettes of their former lushness in the green days of summer, are not really dead, they are resting, to come alive in Spring with newness and fresh beauty. The same with our friends. Their lives are mere shadows of the glory of their eternal Spring in heaven. I quote again the Bible verse my husband came upon at the news of the other friend's passing the other day: "For I reckon that the suffering of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." Romans 8:13.
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