It’s been 12 days since a winter storm hit my town in the mountains of North Carolina, and we still have snow in our yard.
Snow can wreak havoc–causing wrecks, power outages and messed-up travel plans. And melting snow is another set of problems, leaving behind black ice that drivers can’t see until they’re on it, among other things.
But snow can also be breathtakingly beautiful, with pine trees that look as if God has sifted powdered sugar on them and bare branches that appear to be outlined in icing, each tiny twig taking on significance.
But it was the storm’s falling snow that took my breath away. Right before bed, I’d turned the lights out in our family room, and the house was dark as I walked into the kitchen. I opened the glass doors and listened to the almost-holy stillness as the flakes drifted to the ground.
Everything was pristine, all the imperfections coated in a blanket of white. I was awed as I realized that the pure whiteness of the snow gave off so much light that I could see easily through the darkness.
That led me to realize something I’d never thought about before. For a day or two after the storm, my Facebook feed was filled with photos of glistening snow, pictures that were hauntingly beautiful.
But I didn’t see where anyone had posted one photo of grimy snow. Not one.
It’s the purity of snow that makes it so beautiful, and having a heart that seeks to be pure like God is what makes us glisten and sparkle as Christians. And the really cool thing? When we try to be pure like Him, we reflect His light that can help others through the dark places of their lives.
I think it’s said best in Psalm 51:7, “Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.”
