The Gift

I don't like to be cold.  I hate when the snow starts to melt and the slush soaks the ends of my jeans.  I would rather spend my days under a blanket than in a ski lift, but the truth is that winter without snow is dead and ugly.  Every year, winter begins and the complaining ensues. Wishes are cast, threats are made, and prayers are said.  Anything to keep the snow away.  But the rest of the truth is this.  Underneath all of the snow lays the death of summer.  In this overwhelmingly complex universe, there is a necessity for seasons.  Like it or not winter must come.  So what if instead of hating the snow, we were grateful for the gift.

Last week, my first grader came home from school with a note from her teacher on her daily calender saying that she had trouble paying attention and keeping her feet off the desk.  This was the first time in three years of school that we have ever had a note regarding behavior and let's just say, it didn't sit so well......for Paige.  Arms crossed she looked at me and said "Cross it out!"  Oh, no!  We will do no such thing.  You see, her daily sticker was still on the chart right beside the note.  A sticker that she most likely should have lost for her poor listening skills.  That sticker was a gift.  A gift of grace.

All too often I find myself staring into the face of grace frustrated by it's presence. Like an Israelite with a bowl full of manna, I am so caught up in my self I miss the gift in front of me.  Grace may not always look like we expected, but that doesn't lessen the value.  So as a blizzard swirls outside, I am grateful for each unique flake.