For the Love of Snow

Walking to church in the snow yesterday was an act of worship. The morning was completely quiet and still. It was so early in the morning that only two cars passed me as I walked. It was a rare combination of absolute peace, freshly fallen snow, and an overcast sky.

Shedding my usual self-consciousness, I walked and played in the snow like a little child. I stuck out my tongue to catch snowflakes and feel them quickly melt. I took delight in being the first person to leave my footprint in the snow. And as the snow continued to fall, I took note of those places where the new snow completely covered my old footprints, erasing even this barely visible reminder of where I had walked. I took off my gloves to feel the gentleness of the snow on my hand. I had forgotten that snow has the feel of soft lace. As it quickly evaporated in my hands, the snow left perfect drops of cool water in my palm. Walking in the snow was a time of unexpected beauty for me.

I actually don't like snow. Snow means crazy traffic, multiple layers of clothing, and schedule disruptions. Snow means de-icing and shoveling the walkways of the house. Snow quickly becomes dirty and those gray piles of ice, snow, and debris litter the sidewalks for days and weeks. I'm a warm-weather woman and I miss the days when I lived in the South and the town would literally shut down if a snowflake dared to fall out of the sky. That seemed a reasonable response to me. Instead, I am back in the Northeast, where the hearty souls around me take great pride in how they are able to carry on business as usual during a blizzard.

But as I walked to church yesterday, I was reminded that this very moment was the time to worship in the beauty of God's holiness. The earth felt holy; it felt sacred as I walked through the snow. I looked around and saw God's beauty, and not the inconvenience of bad weather. I became like a little child when I was willing to surrender my adult cares. And like a child, the snow became a source of wonder for me. It was a reminder that God's mercies truly are new every morning and in each unique snowflake.

I got to church with snow in my hair and all over my coat. It was a working Sunday for me and I had to miss much of the worship part of the service to attend to my various duties. But it didn't matter. My heart was full with worship and out of the overflow of that worship, I was able to pour out love onto everyone I saw. I'm still warm weather girl at heart, but I'm learning to fully appreciate the beauty of all God's creation.