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Snow. I love it.
Siblings in the snow (that's me on the left)
At least once a year I have to do an ode to snow. I adore snow. I would marry snow if I could. Snow to me is like what I imagine the Israelites to have felt about manna — those white flakes of heavenly goodness falling from the sky and blanketing the land like morning dew, “delicate, powdery, fine as frost”(Exodus 16).
Now I imagine the Israelites would have been a bit more hostile about manna if every morning they had to brush and chisel off the manna buildup on their donkey cart so they could get to work. But still, I’m guessing manna was largely a welcome affair.
Here in the Chicago area (midwest United States) we’ve had glorious outpourings of snow. Granted it does get a bit challenging — I went out yesterday for an errand and got about 1/4 of a mile away and called it quits. Snow, wind, and chill (to be biblical) everywhere! And I’ve got a nun who is snowed in on the southeastern side of Michigan. Trying to come home means passing through northwestern Indiana (just south of the lake) which is a treacherous pass during storms of any precipitous nature. Though pleased with snow, I take comfort in a tweet I read this morning, “Never before have I found the sound of a snowplow at 6a to be so beautiful.”
I guess too much of anything, even if it’s manna from heaven, can be a bad thing — but even when it’s an inconvenience, it can give us pause as we joyfully or grumblingly shift out of our routine and do something different. Not everyone has this choice to shift. Some people have little choice but to face the hazards, and it is good to be mindful of them so that we can help out in whatever way we can.
What feelings or memories or inspirations does snow conjure up for you? We’d love to hear from you.
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{ 3 comments }
i have to eat snow.
we got six inches last night, rarely heard of in tennessee until last year, the worst winter ever. unfortunately, i was trapped in my house without heat or lights for 4 days last year because so many trees came down. i fear the snow now. but the glow of it in the moonlight… it takes my breath away. as far as memories, there were two blizzards… in ’83 and in ’93. in ’83 i was living in a domestic violence shelter and six of us walked four hours in three feet of snow to get to the store. the city was shut down for almost two weeks. southerners are not built for snow. but we had the best time in those two weeks, five women and several children, hiding for their lives but somehow freed from fear by the sheer whiteness of snow. snow calms me and brings a joy nothing else can.
I grew up in Southern California. Every year the San Gabriel Mountains just north of us would get a layer of white. I got to look at it but not deal with it–perfect!
But let me tell you about the power of prayer, the prayer of a very tenacious 9 year old. In 1968, my younger sister prayed for a white Christmas. She prayed her little heart out and was firmly convinced that God would send her a white Christmas. On the afternoon of December 22, we actually received an inch of snow! It wasn’t up there in the mountains 16 miles away, it was all over our dicondra! We scooped it up to make snowballs. We gathered it up to make a grass-covered 11 inch snowman. We even froze a snowball to enjoy in July (Bad idea. It was a block of grassy ice by then.) Yes, prayer and a great deal of faith is a powerful thing!
After I’d spent my 10th year in Palm Springs California I came back to Detroit hoping for a White Christmas. My grandfather swore that the blizzard of the 1981/82 winter season was a result of my constant wish for snow. Yes prayer is powerful.