But Christmas snow is more than magical to me. There’s a spiritual quality about it. Softly and silently it covers the last of the rusty old leaves in the gutters and curbs, the stained driveways and the potholed roads. Similarly, it seems to cover all the pain and disappointment of the past year, sending the heavenly message, “See, I am doing a new thing!” (Isaiah 43:19)
The year my husband and I lost both our moms we had great hopes for Christmas snow. Could it obscure those lingering, haunting memories of their last days on earth and leave only the good ones? Could it bring back my little-girl memories of making snow ice cream with my mom in our kitchen in Tennessee? Could it remind my husband of coming into his Colorado home, his mittens frozen from building snowmen, to his mom’s steaming hot cocoa with marshmallows?
Could it even bring us memories of my mom arriving at our frosty airport in her smart tweed suit, or of his mom coming up the snowy walk for Christmas dinner in her red coat, a bowl of homemade cranberry sauce in hand? We don’t question their joyful existence now near the heavenly “storehouses of the snow” (Job 38:22), but this time of year we sure miss our moms.
On Christmas morning we will celebrate the fact that God, in His great love for the people He created, sent His only Son to live among us, breathe our air, and close the gap sin created between us and God for eternity. If the fresh, white snow arrives, it will remind me that someday, only because of the grace and mercy God bestows on me, I will stand before Him in a spotless robe as white as snow. (Rev. 7:9-14)
The Christmas snow may come this year. If so, will you let it speak to you? Have a blessed and merry Christmas.