White as Snow

We endured a blustery winter storm last night and watched the wind whip the heavy, wet snowflakes around like soaked cotton balls.  It wasn't long before every surface, even the tiniest of bare branches, was gently blanketed in pure white.  There's a moment before the chaos hits when snow is serene and peaceful.  Before the plows muddy the streets and the impatient drivers throw unkind words through their windows, there's a time when all you see and hear is the falling sky.  As each flake finds its resting place amongst the others, the faint tinkling of snow forces us to calm.

One of my favorite songs while growing up was "White as Snow."  As a little girl, I prayed on some cold wintry nights that God would send snow to the beach.  There was something about waking up to a white world that made me feel like I was in a special place.  That song has always been special to me because I could relate to a simple thing like snow.

Psalm 51 says "Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.

Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity. Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me."

This morning as I arrived to work I was soaking in the beauty around me: tree branches hanging low from the heavy white burden, sloping roofs wrapped in a powdery treat, and even the piles and piles of muddied snow along the roads.  I was in that special place.  It wasn't more than five minutes before I heard the first complaint:  "I didn't get home until midnight," and then a few moments later, "I hate driving in this weather."  Rather than agreeing with these comments, my face lit up and I said, "Isn't is lovely?  Just look outside--isn't that beautiful?"  Though the reaction wasn't more than an awkward grimace, I realized something.  Snow isn't just snow to me.  It's a reminder.  I'm washed white as snow.  Regardless of what we've done, what we've said, and what we've thought, Christ chose to restore us so that we may be clean.  How remarkable is that!?  White as snow, though my sins were as scarlet, Lord I know, that I'm clean and forgiven through the wonders of your cross.