More Snow and Ice ... and some SUNSHINE

Icicles on the Christmas fir 

A fir tree stands on my deck. It is there mostly because I was lazy after Christmas and threw it out the slider door the day we put in the gas stove. It has retained its green color and is still in its sturdy metal tree stand, although it is tipping like the Pisa tower.

The snow has been melting on our sun room roof, creating giant icicles on the roof line and on the tree. The sun was shining on the icicles today and they were dripping as they were forming. They were of a large and lethal size and I was careful to not stand under them or bump them.

It was very good to see the sun today, even though the sun's reflecting rays highlighted some spider webs that were forming along the ceiling. The brightness also exposed dust and carpet spots. I got my snow broom from the garage and wrapped it with an old white towel to attack the webs.

As a child I used to hate it that the sun-on-snow reflections would draw out the freckles on my nose. I secretly tried to bleach them with (ReaLemon) lemon juice from my mother's cupboard, but was never confident it did any good. Now I would love it if a few freckles were the biggest problem of my day.

What if sunlight-on-snow exposed the flaws of more than the insides of our houses, but also the webs of deceit and hidden spots of sin in our souls? We would all find a way to hibernate in our houses, for sure! And "let the sunshine in" would not have become a line in the lyrics of a popular song.

Sunshine and snow are common metaphors for exposure and cleansing: Sunshine Laws, sun-bleached clothes, and in our Christian hymnody, "wash me and I shall be whiter than snow."

Today I was grateful (in spite of the glaring exposures) to see sunshine on the snow. My spirit was brightened, if not cleansed. And I didn't see any new freckles.