The snows of life

Tuesday, Feb. 5—how marvelous and astonishing to have been welcomed by the brilliance and freshness of new snow this morning... and what a surprise, too, to discover it had snowed as I pulled up the blinds to let light into our room.

Snow that had silently fallen during the hours of night to remind us that each moment of the year has its own beauty, and winter is not the least.

And how blessed and thankful I felt for another good night rest.  And how uplifting and wonderful it is to witness God’s mercy in a personal level when you place yourself in His hands in total surrender.  You see, sometimes, I find it hard to fall asleep, my anxious heart won't let me rest and I have to go my Heavenly Father in total dependence for rest and peace. My faith is then renewed, my body healed and my mind put at rest.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say to the Lord,

“My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

When I was a little girl, I was awfully frightened by ghastly darkness and the sounds of night. The fear of sleeping alone, or sleeping at all, was so intense that I remember my heart racing crazily, my body trembled and sweated profusely. Most nights I felt ill, and I could not sleep at all. Miraculously, one day when I was around nine, I discovered I had an all-powerful Almighty Savior and my life was deeply transformed. 

Even so, we still live in a sinful world, and sometimes the anxiety and phobias of childhood, when not treated, can prolong till adulthood, and there are times when, still today, things are not so great.  This is the beauty of how life is designed for us. 

One thing is clear to me: the wound is where the light enters. And light did enter into my wounds, and into my life, and it filled my soul with peace and confidence. And perhaps this wound, this pain, was allowed so that I could have a deepened awareness of life?

One day I realized that my sufferings were not a punishment. They were a tool to deepen my perception of life and the receptiveness to the world that surrounded me.  It expanded my consciousness, and it made me more sensitive of the divine.  It made me more present, and more capable of feeling the joy and light and gift of present moments. My fears were the contrast through which I could finally understand and feel lightness. It is a privilege to feel discomfort, it is a gift to be gutted.