The Beauty of Snow

Oh precious is the flow

That makes me white as snow

The flow of endless flakes falling from the sky

Gently

Quietly

Sometimes so faintly you must look for them carefully

Sometimes so heavy you can’t help but notice

Each snowflake an unseen beauty

Carefully hand crafted beyond the naked eye

How can God be so lavish that he intends so much detail in something we can’t even see?

And hundreds, thousands, millions

Each one an I-love-you from Him to us

They pile on the ground, coating the trees and ground in a blanket

A blanket so pure that the world brightens from its reflection

And yet we

Are purified and covered as such

Radiant and pure, reflecting every ounce of light. 

And showered endlessly with details of love we could never easily see or understand.

But they are in abundance, a constant flow.

The winter’s darkness and gray can drag a soul down to the depths.

The internal world can feel like chaos and pain as grief appears to ever linger

The cold biting wind pierces our face as we question God’s goodness

His warmth seems to have left, the sun- his face- has not shined on us.

Perhaps we know it is still there

But it is covered by fog and clouds of our own shame and self hatred, a fight that sometimes feels impossible to win.

But the mystery of winter remains. 

And the snow continues to fall

Some things are meant to be unseen

May I surrender my need to understand- my need to cleanse myself instead of receiving the lavish precipitation that covers everything and more.

Oh precious is the flow

That makes me white as snow.