As a Central Louisiana and former East Texas resident, I don’t have many opportunities to see snow, unless I’m traveling further north. What really strikes me as I sit at home today on a rare snow day, especially on a day when the sun hasn’t stolen the white crystals away yet, is the brightness I see when I look outside.
It may not be apparent in the picture I posted, but the dreariness of the sky does not affect the piercing glow of the snow-covered immaculate landscape.
Time off from school. Time to think and pray and ponder.
Catching up on emails, reading blogs, looking at pictures of other snowy yards, watching video and listening to audio teachings, baking a cake, and cooking a gumbo.
There’s a freshly baked lemon poppy-seed cake sits cooling on a rack before being drizzled with tart yet sweet glaze. Steam rolls from the boiling pot of spicy goodness. Projects unfinished and waiting on my attention are ignored today.
What is God trying to say to me during this unscheduled break with a backdrop of a bitterly cold winter wonderland?
A wonderfully lazy morning full of awe at God’s miraculous creation seemed to be just what He had in mind. What’s wrong with taking the time to enjoy the moment, basking in the goodness of God in the land of the living?
After all, the day was a freebie. A day to contemplate how thankful I am for a husband who braves the treacherous winter weather conditions to earn a living. A day to have a moment of face time with my grandson, allowing him to see the dogs gallop through the deep mounds of snow for the first time and the snow drifts on his lonely swing in the backyard. Sounds pretty cool (no pun intended) to me!
Getting something to take away from this seemingly wasteful day just happened a few minutes ago, as I beheld the brilliance of the frosted blanket from my window.
God promises in His Word that though our sins are like scarlet or crimson, He will make them as snow. Exchanging our dreariness for His brightness. Even on a day where the sun is hidden by clouds of sadness and doubt, He causes light to reflect from the trillions of unique ice crystals.
Beauty for ashes? Turning sorrow into joy? Recycling my mistakes when I surrender them to Him?
How can this be?
Grace. It all goes back to grace. Getting what I don’t deserve is what I experience with His grace.
It’s not fair at all. And I’m really glad it’s not fair.
Deep, dark, filthy stains from sin washed clean to shine like newly fallen snow.
His glory reflected in me, despite what I have done, only because I quit running away from Him. I wasn’t looking for Him, but I had nowhere else to turn.
Even that was all His doing, since the Hound of Heaven pursued me, deep in my selfish willfulness that kept me from receiving His freely given love.
Is He chasing you today? Just stop.
You, too, can be made as white as snow. Isn’t that amazing?
By Cheryl Neiswender