The Dog Dooner Cafe'

It's snowing in Atlanta, on the eve of my second semester in seminary. Classes start tomorrow, yet there is that inevitable buzz of hope that class will be canceled. It's a routine thing, here in the south, for it sleet or snow a little and for everyone to pray hard that night to not have to go to work or school the next day.

There's a magic about snow that will envelop you if you're open to it. It's a calmness, a hopefulness, a grace that floats down and makes even the cold beautiful. In Copenhagen, it snowed a fair amount, and every time it did the snow carried with it renewal and new meaning. (read about one of those experiences here).

In choir practice today, we were singing the Pilgrim's Hymn as the snow really began to gently glide to earth. We all gasped as we looked out of the windows of the chapel, surprised and glad to be touched by God in such a visual way. Then we sang these words:

Even before we call on Your name
To ask You, O God,
When we seek for the words to glorify
You,
You hear our prayer;
Unceasing love, O unceasing love,
Surpassing all we know.

Glory to the Father,
And to the Son,
And to the Holy Spirit.

Even with darkness sealing us in,
We breathe Your name,
And through all the days that follow so
fast,
We trust in You;
Endless Your grace, O endless Your grace,
Beyond all mortal dream.

Both now and for ever,
And unto ages and ages,
Amen.


And with the swells of the music came swells of snow and God was there and it was good.

Sometimes I think I'd like to be a pilgrim--that this title is more that sufficient and worthy.

a pilgrim's blessings, then.
jon.