Can you hear the sound?

This morning, coat buttoned up, hat damp on my head, cheeks burning slightly, I came in the door, smiling.  Do you have something to tell me? Asks Carla.

No.

But I love the snowy-icy-pellety things that are falling from the sky.  They make this magical beautiful sparkling tingling sound.  And the ground is so bright.  And the sound is so beautiful.  And I almost wish that my rational self was not telling me that standing outside in this weather is not a good plan.

But the sound...I actually can't get past it.  It's like thousands of little tiny oddly shaped bells ringing , or itsy-bitsy glass bubbles shattering.  It's like walking through a fantasy land, and really I just want to lie flat on the ground and press my face as close to the sound as possible, and listen to it dancing in my ears. It's like an incredibly delicate, curious song that I can only hear a little piece of, and I smile, in love with the piece I can hear and in complete wonder as I try to imagine what it would be like to hear it all.

I love the sensory phenomena of creation around me. In BC a week ago, smelling the pouring rain and touching towering trees, hundreds of years old, their bark softened by the water but rough and strong, protecting and providing like callused hands.  The river rushing behind me, rain drops being caught in the gentle forest floor, I stopped in awe of  tiny moss florets, each having caught droplets of water, light shining on them in just the right way so that it looked like the ground was sprinkled with amber crystals.
So big, and yet so, so immaculately detailed.

And that leads me to time.  To plans that I can't possibly understand.  To reflecting and rejoicing and pondering and pleading and imagining and inspiring and wishing and waiting and, pause...

It's 2012.

And not that I have any major New Year's Resolutions...only to grow and shine and discover and teach and love.  I'm hungry for challenge - for challenge that shapes me day by day, and brings me more and more into the light of my saviour.