She keeps falling on me...

Snow.

White crystals that alight ever so softly on twigs, gravel and blades of grass.  Six-sided ice formations thrown down to earth by restless clouds with upset stomachs. Everything is pure after a snowfall. It is cleansed and covered. Covered.

"Love covers a multitude of sins."...one of my favorite passages in the Bible.  Love is a lot like snow.  Yesterday the earth was bland and dark and colorless.  It was emotionless and melancholy, like a wife slaving over dishes the day after hearing that her husband left her for another woman. Like a child staring out the window, bored stiff, on a lazy summer day.  Like a man sitting in a cubicle on Monday morning after a three day weekend.  Everything was just sad and sullen. Gray like the ghost of a former glory.  

Then came the snow.  It fell like cats and dogs...it fell like horses and hogs.  I walked out of my house this morning to a wonderland of white.  Pine branches bent under its weight.  My vehicle looked like a car-shaped cloud.  I took to shoveling the walkway and then the driveway.  There's something about the first significant snowfall that makes shoveling fun.  Granted, it gets old real fast, but the first "dig out" is nostalgic.

Driving toward the coffee shop this morning was heavenly.  It felt like "Bedford Falls", "Narnia" and "Middle Earth" all at the same time.  It felt like a snow day in 4th grade.  It felt like the eve of Dec. 25th.  It felt like the whole world was covered with a second chance.  A crisp and cold redemption.

My sentimental emotions were only heightened by my 12th anniversary last night.  Heidi and I went to "Australia" together and then shared an intimate dinner in a restaurant we had all to ourselves because of the snow storm.  

Time stood still last night.  Still enough that I could run my fingers across its textures and feel then subtle nuances that I had to be thankful for in my marriage.  My pallet had been cleansed so that I could taste each and every little thing I love about my wife.  And each thing tasted distinctly different last night.  

I could taste her soul.  I could taste her beauty.  I could taste her words.  I could taste her dreams.  I could taste her affection for me.  I'm sorry to say that often when I taste my wife, I have a mixture of flavors that all blend together into one generic flavor...and if I was asked what this flavor was I would say something like, "Good" or "Alright".  But last night I felt like I could taste each ingredient that makes up this beautiful creature that is "my wife".

Her love covers my life like snow.  It whitens and brightens.  Cools and cleanses.  

And for 12 years she has kept falling softly on me.  And after 12 years she tastes better than ever.

So on this snowy 1st of December, I'm reminded of the wonderful life I have and the beautiful wife I have...in fact, I'm covered with the whiteness of those reminders.