Surprised by Magic

From the familiarity of my bed pillow, I can gaze up through the tiny window of our lofted bedroom, and be met with magic. I have yet to become accustomed to it. I am surprised every time I peer outside for a casual look before drifting off to sleep.

Three massive spruce trees grow side by side, branches intertwined. The silvery-blue wall curves around the end of the house and fills my tiny window frame with whispered mystery. The magic comes when the moon eases its glow through those branches and outlines each needle-laden limb with it's low, cool light. 

Snow has begun to grace us with her presence; adding shimmer to our mountain life. We have now become tiny characters in a giant, snow-globe world. Our nights have become brighter. The snow seems to gather up light during the day and shine it back to us through the darkness. The mountains, once hidden by the night, now proudly reflect the moonlight off of every snow-lit meadow and craggy rock face. 

The snow has garnished our silver spruce wall with its sparkle. There is now more moon-glow than before. I am thankful that I looked up; thankful that I looked up and out this tiny (somewhat dirty) window. 

I forget to look up. I forget to look out. I forget that God is moving, protecting, providing, even when I do not feel it. I forget that He has set up walls around me to guard and comfort me even when I do not see them.  I forget that I have been invited to live in my Father's big world, that is full of the light of Kingdom love and mystery and freedom. 

So Father, grant me eyes to see your beauty, feel your protection, and hear your whispers. And grant me the grace by your Spirit to spread this life to a world that needs silver-spruce walls and snow-lit nights.