My Books

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Snow Light

It snowed today. I have never seen it snow like this where I live in New Mexico. As I sit here watching the snow fall and seeing everything, even the sky, turn white, I’ve noticed something. The light is different. It isn’t really a dim day, but is brightness is different. It is reflected off of the snow, and bounced into things in a different pattern then the typical sunny day. I’m noticing the spangles on my hat. For the first time in ages I noticed my ceiling fan, and saw it is full of disgusting dust. Even the color of my walls is a shade different today. A whole new room seems to appear in this snow-light.

Have you ever had frosty times in your soul? When the whole world seems cold, optimism is gone, and all dreams and progress are hushed and still. Sometimes it’s just a little longing that makes you seek out a friend; and suddenly everything seems warm again after that first hello. Other times it seems every dream has entirely failed and faith is necessary to even get out of the bed in the morning. These are the snowy days inside. And it is in these moments Psalm 46:10 seems to ring truer than ever before; “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Everything is quiet outside. The snow is a muffler, a silencer to all the city’s banging busy bustle. I live on a cul-de-sac, where things are usually fairly quiet. But not like this. The dogs are inside, or huddled in their blankets, the children are not out throwing footballs, and I can count the number of cars that have driven by on one finger. It is hushed. And wet. And cold. And very, very white. And the sunlight hits the still white, and bounces off into a thousand different patterns then its usual method.

The light changes on the snowy days. You notice the disgusting dust on the ceiling fan. You notice how frail and selfish the dreams are in your heart. The spangles on the hats are suddenly brighter, reflecting the sun in different ways. God’s unchanging love hits you in a different pattern on the snowy days, reflecting the Son’s light in ways you may never have noticed before, and setting off the unchanging beauty, stability, and inherent worth of serving this God.

Look at the light today, watch it change. Enjoy its beauty. Let it swirl through the snowy places and bring hope and new purpose. And don’t forget to clean your ceiling fans.