Snow + God

I have to write one more post about snow. This time, it is to share why I love it so much and pray for it to reappear as if it were a dear friend. By personality and by trade, I am an over-analyzer. I believe this trait strengthened as I pursued my degree in English, but it has always been there, annoyingly tugging at my mind at all times. But sometimes I appreciate it. In December I heard a song that absolutely calmed my heart and brought over me the coziest, loving feeling. I cannot listen to it enough, both for its melodies and the lyrics. It's one that might not tickle anyone else's fancy, but it grips me every time. I think I know why. My analytic mind immediately connected it to two other pieces of literature that I absolutely adore. These three, when pieced together, paint a perfect picture of why I love snow...and words. 

Song: "Winter Snow"

Could've come like a mighty storm

with all the strength of a hurricane.

You could've come like a forest fire

with the power of heaven in Your flame.

But You came like a winter snow:

quiet and soft and slow,

falling from the sky in the night

to the earth below.

You could've swept in like a tidal wave

or an ocean to ravish our hearts.

You could have come through like a roaring flood

to wipe away the things we've scarred.

But You came like a winter snow.

You were quiet;

You were soft and slow,

falling from the sky in the night

to the earth below.

Oh no; Your voice wasn't in a bush burning.

No, Your voice wasn't in a rushing wind.

It was still.

It was small.

It was hidden.

You came like a winter snow:

quiet and soft and slow,

falling from the sky in the night

to the earth below.

Understanding this coupling of the Lord and snow comes so naturally to me, and since hearing this song, I think of it often. Onto the next two pieces: the first from The Shack (actually my favorite part of the book) and the second straight from scriptures.

"There is something joyful about storms that interrupt routine. Snow or freezing rain suddenly releases you from expectations, performance demands, and the tyranny of appointments and schedules. And unlike illness, it is largely a corporate rather than individual experience. One can almost hear a unified sigh rise from the nearby city and surrounding countryside where Nature has intervened to give respite to the weary human beings slogging it out within her purview. All those affected this way are united by a mutual excuse, and the heart is suddenly and unexpectedly a little giddy. There will be no apologies needed for not showing up to some commitment or other. Everyone understands and shares in this singular  justification , and the sudden alleviation of the pressure to produces makes the heart merry. ... Even commonplace activities become extraordinary. Routine choices become adventures and are often experienced with a sense of heightened clarity" (The Shack, pg. 15).

"He says to the snow, 'Fall on the earth,' and to the rain shower, 'Be a mighty downpour.' So that all men he has made may know his work, he stops every man from his labor" (Job 37: 6-7).