Today in northern Colorado, we had a mini heatwave, and thankfully, I had the day off. So I brewed some chai and rushed over to the place I like to call my walking lake.
To get to the lake, I have to climb a stone staircase. Before that, all I see are the walls of earth that make up the basin in which the water flows. I’ve been to this lake countless times since I moved to Colorado and still, each time I reach the top of those stairs, the view takes my breath away. Sparkling blue waters beneath rocky mountain shadows surrounded by amber waves of grain.
This morning, I saw a most unexpected sight.
I felt as though I’d stumbled into something… magnificent, secret, natural, and holy.
My walking lake had been taken over by flocks upon flocks of waterfowl. I’d never seen so many in one place before: walking on the ice, swimming in the patches of thawed water, calling to one another under the snowy mountains. A gentle breeze, life on the ice. An abundance of LIFE in this frozen winter…
As I walked, I listened to The Oh Hellos’ Family Christmas Album (click to download for free on Noisetrade). As birds flew, singing, overhead, the music blasted in my ears: “Oh come let us adore Him.” As the breeze rustled in the leaves and the sun glinted on the icy waters, I heard, “Fields and floods, hills and plains, repeat the sounding JOY.”
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy. Comfort and joy.
These plants are so dry and brittle.
They look as if one touch could crumble them into dust.
But I reach out, I touch them, and they are strong,
Made to endure this death of winter.
In Ann Voskamp’s book, One Thousand Gifts, she writes: “Manna today, or I starve.” I must have eyes to see, to behold the glory in each day, I must take in the manna, my daily bread, or I won’t make it through the day. And God, oh He’s so gracious, He provides that manna in abundance.