Dreaming of a White Christmas

Snow.
One of my favorite things in the whole world.
Clean.
Cold.
Quiet.

Free of all the things I can't stand in the world
like heat
or sand
or noise.

Memories from childhood of sledding
and snowballs
and opening my bedroom dormer window and climbing out on the roof with my dad to watch as it fell.
So quiet, it makes its own music.
So beautiful, it is its own art.

No, there is nothing like snow.

Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord. 
Though your sins are like scarlet, they will be white as snow. (Isaiah 1:18)

That is what the Incarnation set it motion.
Clean.
It gave us hope that the stain of our sin would be cleansed.
Cold.
It rescued us from the flames of Hell that were licking at our feet and beckoning us to our own destruction.
Quiet.
It silenced the noise of our flesh that tries to interfere with the noise of our Father.

There is just something about snow.
It is clean and cold and quiet whether it lies in the peaceful valley or on the rugged mountaintop. The constancy of the properties of snow just stuns me into awe at my Creator and makes me fall to my knees in worship of my Redeemer.

We still do battle with the heat and the sand and the noise.

But it's temporary.
What the Incarnation set in motion,
and what the Resurrection permanently secured,
will one day, once and for all,
make a permanent reality.

Until then, I remember the clean, cold, quiet snow of my childhood,
and I dream of the clean, cold, quiet snow to come.

Merry Christmas from my family to yours.

May all your Christmases be white.