Nashville: Snowstorm 2010

Snow and ice fell on Nashville Friday, blanketing the city and surrounds with a glorious — if treacherous — icy white.

We haven’t left our house in four days.

Today included.

So, time that would have been mostly mine has belonged to others — my 6-year-old daughter, home from school, needs my attention. The new puppy needs to be housebroken and worn out. That means my to-do list has gone mostly undone and this pulls me mentally away from the present as I drift off to think about everything else I am not doing.

Truth is, this white wonderland has offered a rare gift, allowing me time to “just be” with my family.

In the midst of our busy lives it is a rare gift, indeed, to be given unplanned still and cozy moments.

And those only happen in the present.

If the present eludes you too sometimes:

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return. — Mary Jean Iron