I’m a summertime gal. Bring on the sun, the heat, the sweat. Let me rock on the porch with a glass of iced tea, sporting a pair of shorts and my Tigers T-shirt, inhaling the scent of petunias.
Or give me springtime, air heavy with the fragrance of lilacs, pregnant with new life, the first robin.
Or even autumn, ablaze with color, hand-plucked apples, the aroma of wood smoke.
But winter? It’s so long. And so cold. And messy.
But today… today is one of those days in which I love winter.
It’s the snow that spills like cotton confetti, swirls gentle, piles downy soft, fluffs underfoot.
It beckons me outside, and I stand in the center of a sacred silence.
And I can barely breathe for the beauty of it.
I remember that God orders the snow to blanket the earth (Job 37:6), spreads it like fleece (Psalm 147:16). He spreads this comforter before me, and it comforts me.
I think of a friend who suffers and pray for His comfort to surround her.
I tilt my face and let flakes settle on my tongue. Taste and see.
Winter must come before spring.
Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow . . . Open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. (Psalm 51)
Even in winter.