Slip Sliden Away

     Walking Iten's Acres the last couple of days has been like a very poor performance of Ice Capades.  I mean, how many of those performances on ice have a hesitant old man as the "star."  For me it's a treacherous trip.  Not exactly the magnitude of "To Build a Fire" but a challenge nonetheless.  My fragility is always on my mind.  I'm afraid that I've reached the age where a fall would reveal that my bones are as brittle as the ice.  At the same time, to crunch my way through the snow like an ice breaker on a river is hard work.  Did it tire me as much in my "younger" days?
     It's not as if the landscape is not beautiful.  The branches glisten in the light of the sun.  A red sundown sets them on fire.  Early in the morning it's as if God sprinkled diamonds everywhere.  The juncos look like some Dalmatian has lost its spots, and they are ricocheting down my driveway.  The icicles on the house are stretching to reach the ground.  The tracks of the smaller animals and the birds leave geometric patterns on the surface of the ice covered snow.  In the wind the icy branches sound like castanets (but trust me, I am not tempted to try to dance.)  Yes, it is gorgeous, but my trepidation affects my focus, causing me to concentrate more on the placement of my feet than the beauty surrounding me.
     And the animals don't help.  The red squirrel, a fox squirrel I guess, because of his diminutive size, is usually practically invisible in deep snow--a pair of small red ears running across the landscape.  In the ice, though, he scampers across the acres "high and dry"--full speed ahead.  Even Gus is light enough to trek across the frozen tundra unfazed by the treachery.  And Bonnie who is heavier just races along the ice like it's not there.  She does take smaller strides--it's actually a little comical--but she still speeds along when the mood fits her.  And here's the old man slip sliding along ever so carefully, worried about every step, missing half the beauty that surrounds him.  I wonder how many times in life imagined or even actual treachery has caused me to miss the loveliness permeating my life--to take my eyes off the beauty of Jesus and to focus on the evil that He has promised cannot keep me down, even if I fall?  I wonder. . .