The ice ribboned in perfect splendor, stretching forever that winter. All things combined in harmony, cold fell in silence and stillness with no snow in sight, freezing the river quickly and smoothly. Suddenly I was free to skim the earth forever, only 8 years old, it seemed a gift too great to deny.
I set off alone, glimpsing what it might mean to be the wind, or a bird soaring, sinking into the rhythm of grace and glory, leaving houses and familiar ground behind. Losing all track of time I became one with the day, silent bare trees and dirt banks the only witnesses to the miracle unfolding before me. It was the waning light that finally caught my attention, telling me I was far, far from home with night gathering quickly around me. Breathless and blessed I ran in the door just in time for supper.
I was almost 6 when we left the land of my birth, nestled above the Puget Sound with Mount Rainier watching over us and the great, wide ocean where I could chase waves and find treasures in the sand. We moved to North Dakota where only the sky surrounded us as we stood on an Earth more flat and bare than I had ever seen. For the first two or three years, I watched, listened and longed for something familiar and known.
The square, ordinary package under the Christmas tree did not look life-changing, but it held mystery and wonder in the shining blades and supple, white leather of my very own ice skates. Wielding shovels and brooms, buckets of water and hope, my brothers and I claimed a small rink on the river. I learned to stand, balance and glide, just in time for the next year when the ice would freeze perfectly and lead me home to years of icy joy and winter wonder.
This year I have watched ice stacking on the big waters that never seem solid enough for skating, but the other day a small river beckoned me for snow-shoeing. There were times when we could hear water running beneath us and sometimes beside us, open and clear flowing.
Another day, I joined a friend snow-shoeing through balsam forest and baby cedars as we followed the footprints of a wolf. Forever moments that end and yet continue with us always. There is such wonder and beauty around us, in the silent trees dressed in white, in the sound and sight of pileated woodpeckers and chickadees scrambling as ravens weave back and forth reminding us to stop and listen, letting the wild ones lead us in paths of wonder, forging us in forever moments that weave our lives in blessing.
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This week our contributor is Pastor Beth Benson of the First Congregational Church, United Church of Christ.
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