It “snowed” in Texas on Friday. I was driving to a neighborhood elementary school for a meeting when suddenly I could make out white dots falling from the sky. I was tired and FREEZING. Yet on my walk into the school, I looked intently around at the snowflakes in wonder. The entire scene just warmed me right up with joy.
It was our first “snow” of 2017.
Inside the school, I could see the kids in the cafeteria with their faces pressed up against the glass. They were giggling and jumping and smiling from ear to ear. Dreams of snowmen and sledding danced in their heads. The conversation in the office was abuzz with guesses on how long it would last or whether any would stick. Every parent who entered seemed to say, “It’s snowing out there! Did you know?!”
Magic pixie dust was falling bringing joy to all who saw.
When I returned to my car a couple of hours later, the “Texas snow” was still falling. The image above is the massive accumulation we’d experienced during that time. 😉 Yet, Facebook flooded with images of kids bundled up, running out to play in the snow. Pictures of snowmen, or as we lovingly referred to them, snowpiles filled our feed. It was laughable in comparison to the arctic blasts on the coasts.
But for one day in Texas, it was beautiful and magical.
Isn’t the irony interesting? While some are overwhelmed with the sheer amount of snow, others are fascinated by the individual flakes. They’re jumping up and down with prayers for more, because a “dusting” just isn’t enough.
How easily our never-ending desire for “more”, so quickly becomes too much.
We want more things. We want more time. We want more money. Just one more sip of wine.
Pay attention to your longing for “more” today.
Could it be that what you have is exactly enough? That it’s magical and powerful and beautiful, if only you’ll decide to see it that way?
I’ve got a feeling it is.
to [more] love,