I feel the fresh, the new of the year out here on the snow.

The pure white canvas of possibility unfurled under ponderosa pines and blue sky.

I feel the blessing of opportunity in this lovely home on the ranch, the gift of staying in a place offered in the warmth, under blankets, watching movies, playing board games. Sledding down the same hill over and over again.

IciclesAtTheRanch

I give Lala an empty yogurt container when she tires of traversing snow nearly to her waist and watch her sit content. In the same place under the tree, scoop after scoop.

We travel to the High Desert Museum and see a replica of a saw mill and an otter sleeping in its den and bald eagle and white owl, its face a snug heart.

Our girls, interested, curious, examine buffalo hides and the beadwork of native people who lived here long before us. They watch in wonder as butterflies alight on branches, my head, an arm, suck nectar through nose straws.

Michael and I hold hands, and I relish how much I like this man.

We eat delicious food and take a horse-drawn carriage ride through the blanket of white, for goodness sake, and I can barely contain my gratitude.

SleighRide

And then we return home. Like my J, I fight against the routine because I kind of forget what it feels like, and I don’t want to remember because I’ve loved this.

The days stretch blank far out ahead, and they don’t feel like hopeful opportunity, but something to master. All I see are remnants of Christmas mess and bags to unpack, and then there are doctor appointments and never-ending homework and lost tempers (mine), and I write Michael a text:

“I feel lost today. Will you pray for me?”

So many places to put my energy, my resolutions, my fresh starts, and I want to see it all like white snow’s stretching hope. But instead opportunities fall moment by moment.

In decisions to trust and not grasp control.

In choosing peace and gratitude.

In slowing for a few minutes to eat noodle soup and hear again the quiet.

I catch some that falls. I miss a bunch.

But there’s grace in this flake by flake because here they still come, filling the canvas of this new year.

Five Minute Friday is back on, so I’m joining up again with the community at Lisa-Jo’s place. Maybe you’d like to join? (I’m a little rusty, so this wasn’t quite five. You know I’ve gotta tell it straight.)

Five Minute Friday

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