That’s what happened today. The great blizzard of 2010 caused me to be “snowed in.” Actually, it wasn’t (a great blizzard), and I wasn’t (snowed in). Instead, it was a beautiful snow, about the same as the one we had back in December, and I chose to stay home and work from here.

I did work, by the way. I spent most of the day researching and writing a lot of this coming Sunday’s sermon. Plus, I answered e-mails, wrote blogs, and chatted on the phone with other Collegiate clergy and Corporation staff. Even so, I did it leisurely – in jeans and a sweatshirt – without shaving or putting on a tie – and with a bowl of chili and glasses of milk on my desk. Somehow, it made work feel less like what it is,

I didn’t venture out today. No need to. Sometimes staying in is almost medicinal. But, I recalled something I witnessed in the last big snow.

A mother and daughter were walking in our neighborhood. I was walking the same way and, without intending to eavesdrop, still overheard something the child said to her mom. With all the innocence and understanding that too many years tend to take away, she said: “Mommy, look how clean God has washed the world.” Wow! I had been complaining a bit earlier about the temperature, wet shoes, and the effect “this stupid storm” might have on church attendance. She saw it in an entirely different fashion. Maybe God got my attention through the voice of a girl on the corner. “A little child shall lead them,” you know.

I guess most things are matters of perspective. I complain about taxes while another offers thanks for the services her tax dollars bring. I complain about all the walking I do which results in expensive re-soling of my shoes, while another offers praise that after months of physical therapy he is able to walk again. I complain because the steak I ordered medium rare has been cooked too much, while another bows to say Grace over a plate of franks and beans at the shelter. I who have so much complain for what I lack, while others who lack so much give thanks for what they have. Seeing the glass half empty or half full. Perspective. “Mommy, look how clean God has washed the world.”

Charles Fillmore used to say that the Universe throws back our way what we have thrown in its direction. I think that means that if we look for good, good is what we tend to find. If we search for joy, joy is what we discover. If we expect kindness and act kindly, people tend to treat us the same. If we cultivate humor, we laugh a lot. If we embrace faith, we sense God’s nearness. If we open ourselves to love, love finds us. To a great extent, that which we look for, we discover. For better or worse, the world becomes what we perceive it to be. Perspective. “Mommy, look how clean God has washed the world.”

I think I’ll go peek out the patio doors and celebrate how clean the world looks just now.