Melting under grace

Not too distant mountains, covered under a blanket of snow bid me come.

Boots on. Coat on. Gloves on. Ready.

I expect my feet to find soft powder underneath. Crunch. Crunch. What is that? It shouldn't make that noise. I take another step. Crunch. Not soft. Ice! Under the paper thin layer of blissful powder it lurks - unwanted, uninvited, cold - ice. Can't make a snowman. Can't make pretty snow angels. Can't drive. Can't run lest you fall on the sharp rocks underneath.

The sun has graciously decided to show it's face, warm, smiling. It will make it all better. I wait for the bus on the street corner. As far as the eye can see down the road, the ice underneath slowly morphs into thin vapor, tossed around by the breeze. Goodbye ice.

It reminds me of my heart. Word falls, but it is met with a crunch instead of soft soil. Boy child needs help with a buckle, but is met with icy words from his Mama.

"Mama did wrong boy child. I'm sorry."

"I 'orgive you."

And the ice on my heart melts just a bit and morphs into vapors of healing grace. Words come, uninvited but so welcome...

'Grace, grace, God's grace, Grace that will pardon and cleanse within,

Grace, grace, God's grace, Grace that is greater than all my sin.'