For
those of us who rarely see snow, the sight of the huge
flakes gently falling to the ground and covering everything
with pristine white fills us with awe. Things formerly
nondescript or even ugly to the sight become beautiful,
transformed by the layer of fluff. Chain-link fences turn
into fine lace, tree limbs bend as though offering their
load of snow as a gracious gift, free to the taker. When
the snow falls heaviest, sounds are muffled, a deep quiet
permeates space and time. Yes, all is exquisitely beautiful,
hushed, transformed, shining clean. Children rush out
to embrace it; adults leave being “sensible”
behind and go out and walk and rejoice in it.
For
this moment, the snowfall shows the exquisiteness of the
grace of God. When God views us through the eyes of forgiving
and redeeming grace, God also sees us as pristine, clean,
beautiful, transformed. All darkness has been wiped away,
all those times when we’ve chosen the dark, distorted,
unholy, non-God ways have disappeared in the moment of
grace.
Of
course, what happens after the initial beautiful transformation
can be challenging: traffic snarls, planes delayed, animals
suffering, events cancelled. Here in Texas, the snow will
melt quickly, and in days or even hours, the traces of
whiteness will disappear. But in much colder climates,
the snow stays. And stays. And stays. And another transformation
takes place—one not nearly so lovely.
I
used to work in Chicago—actually commuted there
from Wichita Falls, TX. After flying into O’Hare,
a flight often delayed by snowstorms in the winter, I
would either take the train and bus (if I were feeling
frugal—cost $1.25) or taxi (if I were feeling indulgent—cost
$25) to my place of employment in an older and heavily
populated section of Chicago. Occasionally, I’d
get there just in time to see the pristine white cover
everything. However, it was more likely that I’d
be there several days after a snowstorm. Things didn’t
melt there as they do here. Especially deep into winter,
there would be huge piles of snow heaped on edges of the
sidewalks, left by the snow plows. It would take only
a short time after a snow for those piles of snow to turn
dark and ugly, splashed by the spray from cars and buses,
melting slightly and then freezing again, eventually turning
into rocks of dirty and slippery ice, treacherous to walk
on and unpleasing to the sight. Spring weather becomes
especially welcome as warmer rains and temperatures melted
those disturbing reminders of what had been beautiful
snow.
And
that also is the nature of life with God. God’s
grace does transform us into people of light and goodness.
We rejoice in that transformation, but afterward the hard
work continues to live as transformed people. We will
get splashed by dirty water mixed with gritty sand. Pockets
of seemingly impenetrable ice form in our hearts as we
cling to habits that harm our souls. Yet spring rains—and
for us in the south, warm winter sunshine—will come
and melt that ice away.
The
natural world has so much to teach us about the nature
of God. Unending grace, sustaining us through unending
trials, offering moments of exquisite sweetness and hope
for the future. Thank You, God.
