With all the snow, no snow, everyone-else-but-us-gets-snow drama, I am frankly a little over the conversation. But in our brief visit with snow here in East Tennessee, the Lord reminded me of one important lesson and taught me a couple of others.
Looking out my bedroom window, the whole hillside was one thick blanket of white. Now compared to Northern snow accumulation, our blanket was more like an afghan, or a little fleece throw. But everything had been truly transformed into a glittering white wonderland. The Lord, quietly as the snow falls, brought back memories of the first snow after my salvation experience. It was the Blizzard of ’93.
Talk about snow. That day as I enjoyed the deep breath that always comes after a heavy snow, and marveled at the sheer beauty of the white expanse, the Lord brought to mind words from an old hymn: “Sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow.” My heart stopped for a moment. As a new believer, I needed that tangible, living picture of what God had done and was doing. He took my torn and ravaged heart and life, and washed it, covered it, transformed it into a glittering white wonderland. So now when I see a landscape transformed, with no control or ability to self-snow, I thank the Lord once again for His unfailing grace and love.
This year’s revelation is equally thoughtful. When we turned on the radio to assess one of the “impending” snow storms, (there were three whole flakes on the ground) they kept talking about the “weight of the snow” and its ability to break power lines.
I don’t know why but that phrase keeps rolling around in my head. The weight of the snow. Think tiny flakes that add one on another. Each one unique and different. One author likened the snow as evidence of God’s ability to be Creator of us all. We balk at the notion of 7 billion people being valued originals. But one has only to measure a couple of city blocks of snow, covered in billions of original snow flakes to see this kind of creative endeavor is no hill for a Climber.
However, I am going in a different direction. Just as there is a weight of snow, there is a weight of God’s grace. And we sometimes view grace like we do snow. We question whether we will even get grace. Whether it is enough to even be concerned about. We complain that some get more than others. Then we flip radical switches and fear God will break our power lines and render us helpless and stranded. Of course, all the while, we talk, predict, disparage and mumur about the “snow” instead of talking to the “Snow Maker.”
There is a weight of God’s grace. Like a robe that has been thrown over our shoulders. We can feel it. Tangibly know it is there. There is also an accumulation of His grace. It seems hardly worth the notice but when it starts pouring, it changes everything. It causes us to stop and breathe, to redirect our routes, to get out and play. It even teaches us how to prepare for when things go completely awry and we are without independent power. We hole up and wait.
One thing about this picture that is kind of scary and kind of fun: we never know when we will get either, snow or grace. Only that we will. Just as as He boasts of his “storehouses of snow,” our God has limitless grace. You can eat it, wear it, play in it, build in it and you can even crash in it.
He is the everlasting Grace Giver.
Enjoy your “snow” days.