A walk was a perfect way to enjoy the incredible snowfall this afternoon. It was fairly warm out as the conglomerations of flakes falling as chunks of wet whiteness clung to our hats (or hair), scarves and coats. Everywhere we turned, the earth-insulating blanket was deepening. When I looked straight up into the grey sky, the approaching flakes were dark and reminded me of falling debris. I wondered if dust and ash in a nuclear fallout would look similar.
I love snowfalls. I remember another January snowfall from four years ago – one that I experienced after an evening TBI class at Bethlehem. In my journal that night I wrote that the “attitude of believing humility toward God’s word” evident in my teacher had been “swelling in my own heart as the night waned.” I had been sweetly convicted that the Holy Spirit Himself was teaching me through the Bible. Outside after the study, a “wondrous flurry of snowflakes swirled about me as I walked toward the truck. I thrilled with happiness and looked up at the whitened night sky in joyous gratitude to God. I lowered my gaze to the snowy parking lot and smiled wide at the snowflakes that were sparkling under the bright streetlights.” And, “I began to compose a poem…”
As surely as the snowflakes touch upon my face,
As surely as they sparkle on the ground,
As surely as I taste their icy breath within my mouth,
As surely as they circle all around…
You are real and You are God;
You are here and You are good.
Your Presence is as doubtless as the snow…
The snow that blows, the snow that stings,
The snow that with a coldness sings
Of Your wonder and your closeness —
Of Your closeness to my soul.
I remember driving home practically singing this poem to God. His Spirit had undeniably moved, and experiencing Him had made all the difference in experiencing a snowfall.