“I have come that they might be fully alive.”  Jesus

“The glory of God is mankind being fully alive.” Irenaeus

“To be fully alive is to be fully in love.”  Harold Bockor

It snowed again in Allenspark.  When not shoveling I like walking, or snowshoeing, in the wooded mountains.  It’s like stepping into winter in Narnia.  The trees look as though they have been flocked, adorned with natures garland, and should have wrapped gifts beneath them. The ground is blanketed with a white comforter, causing a quiet stillness to settle in over all of nature.  Nothing is moving.  All is still.  All is quiet.  One can hear their own footsteps and heartbeat and see their own breath.  Moved by the magic of the moment one might stick out their tongue to catch the falling snowflakes, or make a snow angel, or simply stand for a time, reveling in the magical glories of God’s creation.  It is a feeling of being fully alive.  God, isn’t it wonderful!?

For me these moments are too few and far between.  Not the snow, but the splendor of fully realizing what a gift it is to be alive.  Like most of you I have spent a good part of my life rushing to get things done, chasing my own tail, numbed by the demands of a life spent in a far-too-busy world.  Always there seemed to be something demanding my time and attention other than what was right in front of me, and within me, at the moment.

In my quiet times now I often think of my four daughters, remembering and reminiscing on what  it was like when they were little.  Due to the daily rush and the inflated sense of my own importance, my ego-driven days were spent overlooking them and whatever it was that was important to them—like playing dress up with their dolls, or make-believe, or coloring, or picking flowers—and instead compulsively and distractedly obsessed with everything and everyone that was waiting for me to do something else.  For what purpose?  My agenda-driven life seems so trivial in retrospect.  What was most important was whatever was happening at the moment. 

Those days and years with my little girls sped by far too swiftly.  My daughters are all now grown up and have a life of their own now.  There is no reclaiming those times.  But in a sense, they can be redeemed by being more intentional about living in the moment now, whether that be while walking in the snow, or chatting with a friend, or sitting by a fire, or yes, fully being present in those brief times I have with my family.  Each minute and hour of each day presents endless opportunities for merely meditating on the glorious gift that God has given to each of us in merely being alive. It doesn’t take a snowstorm.