snow silently falls, a chorus of elation, springs from the parched earth
There is a joyful song flitting about in the air as the snow gently falls, leaving evidence of its impact everywhere. Despite the heaviness that comes from long nights and dense snow cover, this song does not seem to feel the weight. Instead, it dances and vibrates with delight, for it is a song that rises from a parched earth now drenched with slow-moving wetness.
Even though I grew up in the Midwest, where snow, sleet, ice, and freezing rain would make themselves known anywhere between August to June, I have never been fond of snow. Or winter for that matter. The longer nights, the weight of ice and snow, and the bone-chilling cold, all make me want to reconsider my life as a human and become a bear hibernating all fat and warm in a wet cave somewhere. So I was surprised to find myself swept up in breathtaking wonder and deep gratitude when the snow came to the high desert.
The Beings of the desert have taught me to be thankful for water when it comes. This parched earth knows what it is to wait and long for water, living in uncertainty if it will ever come. So when water does come, even in the form of heavy snow, amid a cold and dark season, a song of elation erupts from the earth because the coming of water means the coming of life. Beyond thankfulness, the Beings of the desert teach me to sing their song of joy and rest in the delight that comes from sincere gratitude for living water.
Singing Thanks
You who evokes such
breathless wonder in me
You who brings
a joyful wetness
to the desert
and to my eyes
You who dwells
in a thirsting land
and in my thirsting heart
help me to soak in
these moments of grace
these moments of life-giving wetness
and lift a song of
ceaseless thanks to You
