Everything outside is pure white. The ground is covered. The pine trees have their green needles wearing white shawls while a red cardinal positions himself for a stunning portrait. As a child in the country the snow stayed white. Here in the suburbs we know that this time of of purity is short so we cherish these moments.

Something ran across our entire yard during the night. I can follow the trail from my window. If I were to walk out I could tell if it is a deer, a rabbit, a raccoon or a fox by the footprints, the weight, and the pattern of movement.

I am reminded that I, too, am making footprints. Footprints can look one way from a distance. Closer examination will reveal more.

The eyes of the Lord do not miss a step. Others may be watching and weighing my movements against my words.

May God grant us grace to allow Him to direct our path in such a pattern that those who follow will be led to the heart of the One Who made us and gives us reason to run.