Today's Ignatian Spirituality question on Facebook is: Where are you finding God in all the winter weather? I realized that earlier this morning, I went outside, first to go to my building's office and then to dump my trash in the large dumpster behind my apartment building (!!), and I found The Holy both times in both places. Tiny little ice pellets fell from the sky as I walked; each one that hit me bounced off in a different direction. Some hit my face, gently caressing it with a teeny ice kiss. Today, The Holy felt cold & bouncy.
As I walked, the ice crunched and creaked a bit under my booted feet. Each step I took sounded a bit different, because with each step, the ice was differently configured. Because the ice came from pellets, it wasn't slippery as a sheet of ice would have been, so I felt fairly safe walking on it, listening to the strange sounds. Today, The Holy sounded crunchy, like crisp Rice Crispies cereal before it sits in milk.
As I walked, I watched the little ice crystals bounce around and then stick-- on bushes, on trees, on the ground. The snow piles from previous snow storms are already SO HIGH that I could barely see over the top of them. I know, though, that each now has a coating of tiny ice cubes on the top, like giant sugar cookies with the sugar poured out all over them. Today, The Holy looked like huge cookies sprinkled with sugar.
The outside this morning was beautiful. Inconvenient, yes, and risky if one walked too fast -- something I dare not do. Because I HAD to walk slowly, I had the opportunity to experience The Holy in Her / His Creation. In this MOST frustrating of winters, when no one I know ISN'T commenting on just how tired and frustrated she / he is with the seemingly-endless snow and the problems it brings, I am so very grateful that my risk of fracturing my fragile bones caused me to slow down. In slowing down, I found The Holy One.
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