Sledding without a sled

Now a full day after this (hopefully) last kiss of winter here in New England has whisked away, God has deigned to offer a sign that everything redounds to His glory. The roads are finally mostly cleared and the piles of dirty snow stand as scars in comparison to the eminent joy occurring in my back yard as I write.

After receiving around eight inches of snow and then being granted a fine layer of freezing rain to create a sugary coating, my two children discovered to many shrieks of glee that, lo and behold, they don't need sleds to go sledding. The ice is just thick enough to support their weight, so long as they don't go too fast. So down they go, not needing Dad to give the sled a shove, impelled by their own suddenly independent power, sliding and shrieking in glee.

Were it not for them, I would see this glistening coat as nothing but a nuisance and a danger. But in their eyes and out of their mouths come a glittering reminder that, indeed, all things redound to His glory.