All and all consisted of contrasts that day: milky patches of snow, jade, dense forest, moon above the hills, heavy mountains and fading sunset on the background. How beautiful! Oh, where to find words to describe that reflection of moonlight in the river? Oh divine grace of God, of His artistic heart that created a little man, a little me, and placed in the centre of such days and places as we have witnessed that day.
Growing up in Russia I learned one thing that stuck to my minds, got written on my hearts, such as to never take good for granted. Later on, however, it became normality. When all is well, and I mean well in a common idea of happiness, where a partner is kissing you good morning, a child is healthy and laughing from joy, work is successful and the sky above your head is peaceful, it becomes a somewhat habitual existence. A routine that is taken for granted. Hence, only with a certain endeavour, one can return to blissful observation of life.
I kept praying so God would reveal me His heart, His will, forgetting that His love and heart were masterly expressed through daily miracles when our baby was laughing, when we walked hand in hand and watched the sky over the mountains turning lilac and rose.
I used to struggle, to feel ashamed for my inability to find words to describe the most valuable and beautiful things in life. It was as if my tongue got twisted, mind numb and vocabulary limited with every attempt to describe Christmas, mountain tops, foam on the ridges of ocean waves, love of a husband, the smile of my child. Nevertheless, lately, I realized that writing was an outlet for disturbing issues, for solving concerns, for discovering the core and the cause of a matter. While it keeps me sane it is an unnecessary request to try to put the responsibility on it for those indescribable moments that only call for living through, rather than finding words to describe them.
Now, I do not talk about the inability to describe the scenery. On the contrary, I can tell you much through observing and writing as some sort of artistic expression. The described scenery would be about the nebulous circle around the moon. I can tell how the sky turned pale pink and purple, how that hue coloured moon lavender and how that light laid upon the mountain top. The peak blended into the cloud and they hung together in harmonious existence erasing the beginning and the end between the earth and the sky.
See, that fusion, the magnificent landscape can be described. Its poetic appearance lives and breaths and was created to be admired and inspired by. What I speak of is the feeling that overcomes one’s heart in front of such a glorious masterpiece. When I shared those thoughts with my husband he said one word, “Lubly” which in Russian means “I love that”. There is nothing else that needs to be added. You are in love. In love with love and all those indescribable moments. You are in the middle of God’s glory. You are witnessing God’s glory and His heart, when you love, when your child laughs and when you offer a hand to the one in need. You witness it in the moon reflection in the river stream and while standing under the falling snow.
Let me now, pause right there and be out to look at the moon, to be present, to love.