Our back yard is a maze of snow and huge frozen puddles of water, deposited there by the rain that preceded the snow. Just peeking out a window makes me shiver. And yet, there’s such incredible beauty in a blanket of white that remains untrampled, undirtied by human interference. White and pristine, the sunlight makes it almost blinding in it’s bright, shining purity.
Looking out over our white world earlier today, I was reminded of an article I wrote a couple of years ago on my blog, The Melody Within. I thought I’d dust it off and share it with you. If you read it the first time around, I hope it touches your heart again, and that you find something to take away that perhaps you missed last time.
If you haven't read it before, well … here it is. I hope it blesses you!
Fresh Tracks in the Snow
I read something tonight that resonated within my heart, and I have to share it. If you’d like to visit Sally Bradley’s blog and read Fresh Territory, you won’t be sorry. But here’s the gist of it:
Sally’s guest blogger, author Cynthia Ruchti, talked about how it felt as a child to make new tracks in a fresh fall of pristine white snow. It was untouched and unexplored, and walking across it, leaving her fresh tracks in the snow, was a special thrill. Cynthia went on to say that she gets that same type of pleasure on an even deeper level now, when she opens a new Bible or comes upon a page in her old one that has no ink marks on it. If she hasn’t written in it, she obviously hasn’t read that page.
“How can I be so sure?” she asks. “Because God speaks to my heart somehow, some way, on every page. If nothing is marked, it’s a tell-tale sign that I haven’t been over that territory.”
I love that! Probably because I know exactly what she’s talking about. I am not comfortable reading my Bible without highlighters in hand and ink pens nearby. When something I read sets my heart aquiver or opens up a window of enlightenment in my soul, I must mark it in some way. It’s so heartwarming to return to that place weeks, months or even years later and remember why I marked it just so, and to relive that special spark between my God and me.
What kind of tracks are in your Bible? Do you allow yourself to write in it – or are you uncomfortable with the idea? If so, why? Are there special ways you mark certain verses? Cynthia draws little musical notes beside verses she knows have been made into worship songs. Someone else uses a triangle beside anything that alludes to the Trinity, and a pitchfork to represent Satan.
What about you? What kind of tracks do you leave on the pages of your Bible?