You better bet that when the sun is out, Tim and I are out and about as well. Winter in Northern Idaho has been quite overcast, so we take advantage of every ray of sunshine. I’m writing this as I sit cat-like on the floor in a swath of sunlight coming in from our sliding glass door.

This morning was one of those rare sunny days, so we headed outdoors for a hike at English Point. (More on our love of outdoor activities in Monday’s How To Maintain A High Maintenance Marriage post.) We decided on the Yellow Trail, a 3.6 mile loop amidst tall pines, with occasional glimpses of Hayden Lake.

I thought with the warmer weather we’ve been having, the snow would be melted like it is in town. However, I hadn’t factored in the shade from those tall trees keeping the temperatures cooler than other places; so we ventured forth on a trail covered in snow.

Long stretches of snow and packed ice were interrupted by a mishmosh of mud and pools of murky water. If we weren’t slip-sliding away on the frozen trail, we were carefully picking our way through the dirt and puddles.

We were successfully avoiding a major catastrophe (broken arm from slipping on ice or a face plant into the pond while crossing a frozen bridge) but the going was tedious at points. Despite some good saves, I eventually slid on a patch of ice, pushing my left shoe into a squishy pile of mud. Murky water seeped in through the mesh and I stared sadly at the large brown splotch adorning my previously white shoe.

At that point, the sun didn’t seem so bright. I was irritated at my “ruined” shoes, wondering why we even chose this trail in the first place. Our progress was slow and each step required attention – not my idea of a pleasant hike.

A few paces ahead, while I was still fuming about my shoes, I heard that soft voice whispering something in the back of my head. I was diverted long enough in my fuming to listen more intently as God reminded me that I had a choice to ruin my morning by perseverating about the muck and mire or to just enjoy the hike in spite of its imperfections.

Sigh of resignation. Yes, Lord.

God gave me sun and blue sky and glimpses of sparkling lake. I finally have appropriate Winter clothing (see #7) that makes hikes in 35 degree weather possible. Tim and I had a wonderful conversation. Yet, I was choosing to let a little mud ruin all of that.

Mud happens. It’s dirty and an inconvenience when you splatter it all over your new shoes, but mud is also a sign that seasons are changing, that Spring is coming. It is my choice whether to celebrate the spring or bemoan the winter in my life. 

I’ve seen myself make the wrong choice a lot lately. I will dwell on the negative or let one small irritation color my attitude for the rest of the day. Good can turn bad, and stay bad, with one choice. I look back on all the bad that I created with my choices and mourn the good that could have been.

May we choose to see God’s good gifts amidst the imperfect and the primitive – this week and always.