Down in the land of alligators, mosquitoes, and Chubbies
shorts, snow is the one dream that Mickey Mouse cannot make come true. The number of people older than myself who
have never seen snow is actually rather astonishing. I remember, on one occasion, it sleeting and
everyone in the neighborhood was running outside to see semi-frozen water fall
from the sky.
While I have been blessed to see my fair share of snow,
unlike my Floridian brethren, it is still somewhat of a novelty to me. Unlike my former roommate from Iowa who
viewed snow rather apathetically, my lack of experience with snow has allowed
me to retain an appreciation for its beauty that I might have otherwise lost
had I grown up somewhere where snow was commonplace.
It just so happened that I found myself sitting in the snow
this afternoon, watching it float down from the sky to kiss the earth. You see, this afternoon was one of those
times where I just needed to get away from school, people, and responsibilities
so that I could think and pray. I bundled
up in a hat, gloves, and jacket, and drove myself up to a local bluff where I
occasionally go to ponder what’s going on in my life.
Arriving at the bluff, I got out of my car and walked the
short trail to the bluff, rather surprised at how much more snow was on the
ground there, as opposed to the bottom of the mountain. It had been snowing for a little under 24
hours, but the snow on campus had pretty much melted away while the snow on the
mountain had accumulated. Arriving at
the bluff, I climbed over the stone wall and sat down on the edge of the
cliff. I laid back against the wall,
shielded by the wind, and stretched my feet out until they were inches away
from the edge.
I stared out at the farmland below, my view obscured by snow
like white noise on an old-fashioned television screen. For the next forty minutes, I lay there mesmerized
by the snowflakes gently gliding down from the grey clouds above. Each flake danced about on the wind as if
performing a magnificent ballet; sometimes falling downward towards the ground
below, and other times floating upward as it was caught in an updraft against
the cliff. Watching the wintery waltz, I
wished that I could step off the cliff and join in on this zero gravity dance,
and indeed the dance was so magical that, for a moment, I almost believed I
could.
Seeing the snow suspended in the air reminded me of Isaiah
55:10-11 that says, “As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and
do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so
that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that
goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish
what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it” (NIV).
As this thought formed in my mind, I remembered God’s
promise in Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares
the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you
hope and a future.” Clasping hands like
two lovers, these two passages joined together in my mind and I had an epiphany.
God promises in His word that He knows exactly what is
planned for us. From a human perspective
sometimes God’s will feels just like snowflakes falling from the sky; there is
no rhyme or reason to how they fall, rather they flit around wherever they are
so inclined. In the same way that trying
to understand every facet of the Lord’s will can be frustrating, so focusing on
finding an order in snowfall would drive one mad. It can be so maddening that we often forget
that the Lord’s will is not, in fact, random, rather teleological.
God compares His word to snow, not because it falls
randomly, but because it is gentle, soft, lovely, and waters the earth when it
melts. Snow has a purpose. A purpose to prosper the earth, and not to
harm it. While it may appear nonsensical
at times, it is truly a beautiful occurrence.
Next time you find yourself confused by God’s will as I was
today, take a step back and try to see it as a gentle snowfall, and then watch
as God waters the earth.
Hey Caleb,
ReplyDeleteFrom one Floridian to another, this snow is really beautiful. I hope I never get tired of watching it fall. I used to watch thunderstorms in Florida in a similar way when I needed to be still. The verses you shared were very timely. Thank you for sharing your musings!
www.forgottenfeatherpen.blogspot.com