Friday, November 18, 2016

Hope's First Snow

There’s an extra sharpness to today’s November air. I can feel it pierce my heavy lungs as I can sense the presence of a coming snow.  As I look out at the still green grass littered with leaves and the trees standing coldly bare, part of me can’t help but cling to the sweetness of summer while wishing for it to snow.

I don’t believe I’ve ever wished for snow. But this coming snow seems different than those of past years. Deep within me I know this year’s first snowfall will be a beautiful cleansing snow that embraces everything it touches with a quiet radiance and a subtle hope. A hope that gently covers November’s weary and uncertain landscape. A hope that is rooted in the snowy promise that indeed, Spring will come again. I have to believe it will come again.

As I lay listlessly waiting for sleep to come, I can hear the storm’s wind whirling outside my window. As sleep eluded me, I’d get up and look out the window to see if I could see any first signs of the coming snow. I crawled back into my warm and safe bed and just listened – hoping to awaken to a November kissed by the brightest of snows. As sleep drew me in, my thoughts stirred on the Autumn winds of November and the heartache this month always seems to hold. As I think back over these past few years, my heart can’t help but bring me back to the month of November and the defining moments of CF that so often seem to accompany it. But as I think back, that heartache was always followed by the first snow – a renewing promise that spring will come.

I awoke this morning to a heavy glistening sheet of white covering my windows. The snow had fallen so perfectly overnight and it clung mightily to the world– embracing everything it touched with a breathless beauty as if to say all will be ok. As I get ready to face the new day, I know my lungs will sting bitterly from snow’s first arrival. But with every piercing breath I know that I am alive. I am reminded that each breath would not be as beautiful without each November. So, as I step outside and make my first footprint in the freshly fallen snow, I know November will not last and the hope for tomorrow is woven into this first snow. And the most beautiful part? The snow is still gently falling.

Love to you all.

Breathe in the beauty of the first snowfall. 

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