It seems a little odd, really. Billions of snow flakes gently falling on this city, and each one is being cursed at.
Yes, it is March. Yes, the sloppy, icy, dirty, remains of winter are driving us all crazy.
But the snow flakes keep coming down gently, each one exquisitely made. Outside of world-famous museums, numberless masterpieces all being destroyed without ever being really seen. Seems a bit ironic.
We have no shortage of artwork. We have a shortage of viewers.
Yet God keeps gently painting, one stroke after another, while we scurry and fret the "treacherous" conditions of the sidewalks. We fume because we have to shovel yet again when it is exercise we all desperately need and otherwise would pay good money to Richie's Gym in order to get.
God just keeps sprinkling his fragile artwork all around knowing we will trample it in a huf.
What does this say about God? What does it say about us?
"Consider the lilies" Jesus said.
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