Snowbreak

The morning sun is edging over the mountain to the east. My cats and I are sitting at the window table that overlooks our snow-blanketed front yard that stretches for miles down below to the ridge of mountains across the valley. We are studying the many sizes of animal tracks. Who knows what or if a cat thinks, but I'm thinkin':   "I don't want to know what animal made those gigantic footprints!"

We just spotted a huge bobcat 'way down below. Have you ever watched the pupils in your cats' eyes change from slits to saucers?  Mine just did.  Fascinating!  These two have cabin fever so Bootsie's yowls coaxed me into letting them outside just now. They did a U turn as soon as they hit that 32 degree temperature. Then, just like my sons used to do when they came through the door, they tackled one another and quicker than lightning had one another in a headlock. Bootsie, the smaller of the two kitties, will climb up on my lap after one of them declares himself the winner, unleash his needle-sharp claws and knead on my fleece bathrobe. Then he will curl up and nap on my shoulder while I read Leviticus in my Chronological Bible. That accomplished, I will hasten to turn to II Corinthians to catch a fresh breath of New Covenant air.

Puss'n, not a "kneader",  will find a sunny spot, stretch his enormous body to full length, turn over on his back, point his big paws to the ceiling, and snooze all day.  In a month or so the gophers and field mice will exit their underground burrows and Puss'n Boots will go to work and earn their room and board.  My spring/summer/fall nightlife will kick in and I will be wringing my hands until my "kids" have deposited their headless trophies on my doorstep and are safe in their little beds about three in the morning.

Why do I let these pets of mine outside with the critters that can't wait to snack on their beautiful  bodies?  I haven't the heart to take away their purpose for living. This week I have had to participate in the sad decision  a mission board must make to break the news to a fellow aged warrior that he cannot go back to the foreign field under their umbrella.  I weep.  So far, I am blessed to have both feet in the stirrups. Modern technology (some of which twists my mind into knots)  connects me in several ways around this world on a regular basis.  ...but there may be a time when I am put out to pasture. ...but not quite yet.

Up here on this mountain, God's activity surfaces afresh nearly every day.  I get to study the Bible for hours every morning and then I get to teach  it. You bet the devil's news media is discouraging, but the Holy Spirit's activity has always hidden beneath the radar. I don't believe that the "Roman Gazette" reported anything that we read about in our Bibles. Today there are millions of young and older people in our troubled country who have not "bowed the knee to Baal", nor will they.

This is the verse I left with my radiant-with-Jesus young people at the conclusion of our class in Ephesians on Thursday afternoon: "But Moses told the people, 'Don't be afraid. Just stand still and watch the Lord rescue you today. The Egyptians you see today will never be seen again. The Lord himself will fight for you.  Just stay calm.' "  (Exodus 14:13 and 14)  All of us have the devil at our backs and a deep blue (Red) sea in front of us. We have a choice: Believe God's promises to us, His beloved children, or collapse in unbelief and despair.

This minute there is a beautiful bluebird who neglected to read the weather forecast, sitting on an ice-covered branch of Ted's apple tree (from which he harvested one apple only in all of his years of waiting), looking bewildered. His brilliant blue coat against the white snow on the mountain is breathtakingly beautiful! Dr. Seuss "talked to the animals". So do I. I also yell at them. You haven't been truly startled until at three o'clock in the morning you sit bolt upright as a mouse,  fleeing for its life from a cat who is chasing him at full speed, lands right in the middle of your stomach! You may be saying, "Why don't you set traps?"  I do. ...but mountain mice know how to outsmart a trap or those little blue pellets that are supposed to knock 'em dead. We either  come to terms with this reality:  that the animals were here before we were, or we live cooped up in our houses just as we did in the cities from which we fled.  Some people up here on this mountain are downright incensed when someone kills a rattlesnake. Well, they can just be incensed. That is the only wild critter I absolutely despise. The mountain lions don't show up at this elevation and neither do the bears. ...although when I walk my half-mile driveway to the pavement I see "evidence" that they have taken a stroll down my road in the night. Like Scarlett O'Hara, "I'll think about that tomorrow".

This week, we measured the snowfall on our mountain by feet, rather than by inches. My trusty Ridgeline Honda truck and I did get out to teach my class on Thurday then I met with a lovely bunch of believers for prayer at the Country Club that night...but my tires slipped out of the tracks on my driveway and I didn't make it into my garage when I came home.  My kind son-in-law came down the mountain last night and shoveled a ton of snow out from under my truck and drove it into the garage.

I used to be called upon a great deal to speak for women's doins' here and there. One such invitation was to speak for a Christian Womens' Club in Brownsville, Texas. All of these women were snow-birds who fled from the upper states to the Gulf Coast for the winter. Whoever planned the entertainment for the event made the thoughtless blunder of having a soloist sing "White Christmas". The crowd of women actually BOOED!  There is something quite lovely about being snowbound ...for a day or so.  ...but for a whole winter that lasts around eight or nine months? Nope! Ted, little Doug and I lived in Minnesota for several years when Ted was in college. Many a morning, my man uncovered three or four cars before he found ours, buried under snowdrifts half as high as our apartment building.

I may put my snow boots on, grab my ski poles and take a walk down my snow-covered driveway after I put this blog to bed for another week.  ...or maybe I won't. The temperature is dropping, so I could throw a bigger log on the fire and eat the tasty soup Heidi insisted I take when I dropped in to hug her neck at her house the other day.

As I look out the window in front of my desk and gaze at the top of our mountain a couple of thousand feet above,  the ice covered trees glitter like a million Christmas lights. Beautiful!

...but no beauty can equal the beauty of our lovely Jesus.

Sing the wondrous love of Jesus; sing His mercy and His grace;
In the mansions, bright and blessed, He's prepared for us a place.

Onward to the prize before us! Soon His beauty we'll behold.
Soon the pearly gates will open; we will tread the streets of gold.

WHEN WE ALL GET TO HEAVEN; WHAT A DAY OF REJOICING THAT WILL BE
WHEN WE ALL SEE JESUS, WE'LL SING AND SHOUT THE VICTORY!

Love, Jo