I was so glad to wake up to find a blanket of snow outside the window. It calmed my heart and quieted my mind. This is one of those weeks — You know the kind; too many tasks on the ol’ checklist; friends suffering through flu, doubt, and heartbreak; the bills from Christmas coming due. The snow at dawn helped me put it in perspective and pause to feel the gift of just waking up.
The psalm we will sing this coming Sunday (Psalm 36) gives us the image of “taking refuge under the shadow of God’s wings.” A blanket of snow at dawn, to me, is like God landing on earth, reminding us to be quiet, helping us see things afresh, and hugging us close. One of my favorite memories from graduate school in Madison, Wisconsin, is of walking to church in about six inches of freshly-fallen the snow early on a Sunday, before the plows came through. A normally rowdy city silent, each tree transformed into a sparkling shrine to its creator.
The snow won’t last; it will start raining by noon, they say. And my mind will be off to the next thing by then. But right now, I am thankful, and I invite you into a moment of thanks, too.