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Snow Storm

As I turned off the highway, onto the road leading to our small hamlet of Bond Head, the snow was just starting to fall. All day on the radio there had been warnings of a bad winter storm approaching, but it was hard to take them seriously while driving under the blue, sunny skies we had enjoyed all day.

The bright globe that had shone so clearly a few moments ago was softened now, by the veil of snow that was drifting across the sky reflecting back the hues of the setting sun. The storm seemed to be heading in and I was glad to be nearly home.

I was uncharacteristically downhearted as I went inside for the evening. Something was weighing heavy.

I didn’t have long to dwell on that train of thought as Paul and I were looking after six grandchildren for the evening. It wasn’t long before they all arrived in a bustling crowd and gathered with chatter and laughter around a box of pepperoni pizza that their parents brought for supper and which we served unceremoniously on the kitchen table.

In the midst of the hullabaloo, the phone rang and it was my friend Frances. I had written something about snow the day before and she had been thinking about it.

She said, “I just had to call and tell you--snow is God’s great equalizer!”

The announcement was delivered with a sense of urgent importance.

She went on to say that she had heard some people complaining about the snow, but she loved it because like God’s grace, it covers everything equally. My heart was already drifting back to thoughts of its earlier downcast condition that were related to a hurt.

But Frances wasn’t finished yet; she said, “It isn’t a respecter of what it falls upon—it doesn’t matter what it starts out with. It can start with a beautiful mountaintop or a pile of manure and they both look beautiful once the snow has blanketed them.”

She delivered her epiphany with the zeal of a heavenly messenger. And as I thought of my feelings as I came home, I could only accept her words as just that—a message from God; a beautiful mountaintop or a pile of manure—to God they are both the same when it comes to snow—or his grace.

It was 5 hours later that the phone rang again and it was Frances who had one final thought to share. “When the snow covers everything,” she said, “it makes everything clean. It’s so like Jesus’ blood.”

Christmas; it is a time of messengers. And sometimes they are human.

Isaiah 1:18 (New International Version)
18 "Come now, let us reason together,"
says the LORD.
"Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.

Comments

Susan said…
God bless Frances. :o)

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