The First Snow of the Season

While many northeastern Ohioans were crying, "OH, NO!" in dismay, I was gleefully exulting, "Oh, SNOW!" I love all four seasons, and the first snow sighting still revs my engines. Our three grandchildren were on our porch as the first flakes lazily drifted down. Apparently, snow dance moves are genetically passed through the generations, because I immediately recognized their hip-hops and hand claps, accompanied by delighted squeals. I had done the dance many times myself, and even now my feet started the snow boogie again.

Snow is so easy to love. For starters, snow is quietly powerful. Without a sound, it just does its thing. We go to bed at night, and by morning the silent snow has blanketed the world and shut the entire city down. No fanfare. Just consistently persevering.

Then there's that teamwork thing. Left to itself, a snowflake is infinitely fragile. It accomplishes nothing, melts and is gone in a nano-second. But together--wow. Those snowflakes are a mighty force. Together they can make 6 foot high drifts, bow tree limbs in half, and last an entire winter.

How about its way of making less than beautiful things shimmer and shine? There's a little old house on our road that is unkempt and substandard in every way. It would be a compliment to call it ordinary. But give us a good snowfall, and that house looks like a storybook cottage. The snow covers its flaws, and allows it to take a place among homes that please the eye during any season. Reminds me of Peter's perspective: "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." I Peter 4:8

Quiet, unassuming, persevering power. Consistency and teamwork. Graciously making things beautiful. 

 Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.