Snowflake

You

call me Your

little

snowflake

and tell me

how much

it delights You to watch me

dance in Your breeze, to watch me be wafted from heaven to earth.

But even when I am still, lying motionless on some leaf, some bush, some thorn,

some clothing, some pavement, I ravish Your heart with every tiny

lattice of mine. I wonder what it was like before these ever existed;

Your smile lets me know how You carefully crafted

each delicate pattern, how You put me together

in the hidden place of my mother's womb,

in the dephts of the sky.

What if I melt, I begin to wonder, what if

I become but water? You tell me that this is what I

was meant for: to melt in the trustworthy warmth of Your embrace.

But what of the times that I suffer, dissolving in tears, evaporating under

the cruel rays of the sun? 'A drink offering poured out like My Son for His kingdom,'

I sense You whisper, and dare to believe in the end it will all have been for Him.

I smile and snuggle into Your arms and murmur a little shyly: "You know

what I love You for most?

That You

gave me

my greatest joy

to melt

at the feet of Your

Son."