ice-olation >
Yes, this puff of snow is so cute and beautiful, but still it is part of this world's snow job; it is like a beautiful little angel standing out, above all the rest . . . but still part of this world's snow job.
This is like how I became. For a while I was a perpetual bully in junior high school. Then I decided to go to Heaven. I did all I could to be "good", and then was voted one of the class angels of my high school graduation class. But I did not know how to love; I was isolated from others, more or less.
Then in college I was a "worry drunk", fearing that I might sin by wasting time so I did not get the grades I should for becoming a teacher. I wanted to be a role model community person as a teacher . . . right!
But I was often in pain and agony about maybe failing in college studies; and I was not loving and sharing with my fellow students. I was not warmly loving, not personally interested in each other person.
But God reached me with comfort; I became more sober and settled, so I could take interest in His word and hear about loving. And I asked Jesus to save me and offered myself to Jesus to do with me like He did with the "thief on the cross" > all that man might have known is he needed Jesus. But Jesus knew exactly what to do with him. So, I offered myself to Jesus to judge who I was and if I was being real with Him or not, and do what He would. And then Spirit of mercy dropped in to me and I became encouraged, and simply thanked Him and took each step He gave me. And the walking keeps leading to more growing in love and discovering His love examples who help me along the way.
But . . . meanwhile . . . in this world >
the bridges of this world just lead to more snow job. Though they may look beautiful . . . they go nowhere.
"rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God." (1 Peter 3:4)
Here I am > I have made it
to the top of this hill,
and now my face is being stung
by blowing snowflakes
which are busy making
the hill's bedtime blanket of white.
And there . . . down the hill,
in the distant night . . . I see a light;
and it is getting bigger,
then splits into t-w-o lights;
so it is getting closer, coming at me
in a swirling cloud of white;
then I hear the
rumbling of the engine, see
tumbling snow, and hear a muffled
grumbling of the blade on asphalt;
so no, it's not a ghost,
but the wow-plow passing by!
So, I hurry and scurry
to get out of its way . . .
only to get stuck up to my hips
in the roadside drift
where I am now still
right in the path of that swath.
But he pulls out and stops!!
(all that power and authority,
and He stopped . . . for me!!!)
And the door swings open . . .
"Com-on! Get IN!!" He calls.
And I stumble to the running board
where I need to kneel before I
haul and crawl myself up
into the passenger seat;
and now I am being kissed
by the warmth of the cab
and treated to the glee of
seeing all that blowing coldness
of this world's flaky snow job
now getting bounced off the windshield
from right before my eyes,
while I just rest and ride
with the Master at the wheel