I went underground at 72nd and came up inside of Port Authority, and when the bus doors finally opened in Hoboken, there was white stuff on the ground.
This is, hands down, my favorite day of the year. Always is, every year. Most years (in the past 5) it happens while I'm at work, so I was particularly joyful and thankful that it happened today, allowing me time to enjoy it. My second favorite day is, of course, the first day I hear my heel click into the binding, but this is far and away the first.
Its a bittersweet day, in its own way, as most truly wonderful things are. Your inner spirit, full of such joy - your cup running over, whispers in the background that your excess should be shared with others. A great painting, or piece of music, a perfect glass of wine, or a day spent sailing - all wonderful things in their own right, but most fully experienced in communion. I haven't met many people in my life who understand my exuberance in this occurrence, which seems so commonplace to most folk, I suppose.
A long walk to the point tonight to just survey the city and feel the cold. Wind, ice, and a white dusting for the world. What's better than snow? God thought the concept up before time even began, just to make me happy. Even the numbness in my face gives me hope of things to come. A little more than 6 days from now, I will, Lord willing, experience my second favorite day of the year, home in Tahoe, with my brother.
This has been a good year and God has, by grace, done a lot in and for me, and I am thankful for all of it, and not thankful enough. I've quoted Steinbeck before, but it still rings true:
Do you realize that I am twenty-six now? I don't. I don't feel twenty-six and I don't look that old, and I have done nothing to justify my years. Yet I don't regret the years. I have enjoyed them after a fashion. My sufferings have not been great nor have my pleasures been violent.
I have no complaints tonight, nor should I ever. I am at peace in a good, pleasing, and perfect plan.
All good things lie in the vision of God as all rivers come from and are in the ocean. Why are your emotions and minds unsatisfied by all the things you see here? Just as you bring a great ship into a narrow channel and she cannot sail, but runs aground, yet if you give her a sea room and depth she runs like the windso here! All that delights you on earth, all the comforts we have here are like droplets, inflaming and not satisfying the appetites of the soul. But the lamb will lead you to fountains of living water. John Flavel