Gliding on the groomed trail, our skis squeaking on the snow, under the stars on a clear and very cold night, we were caught in a Christmas card moment. Pine trees trimmed with white bordered the trail. Their branches sweeping downward in a graceful arc crowded us into single file. We huffed up the hills, my three children climbing easier and huffing less than I.
Our cheeks rosy with health, we occasionally stepped off the path to let others whiz by, sacrificing our momentum for courtesy. One man, a scowl on his face to show he was in earnest about this skiing business, groaned when he passed us on a straight patch. I wonder if he sees the trees. Or the stars. Does he recognize the snow under his feet as a gift from a Creator with a universe full of design to his credit? Can he read God’s message to him in the aroma of pine, in the moon that makes shadows dance around us, in the untouched snow to our left and right that covers a naked and embarrassed earth with a pure blanket.
An ancient, man, Job, was asked this question by God, “Have you entered into the treasures of the snow?” He meant, “Do you get it? Do you get the message of the snow?” (Job 38 is a magnificent chapter.)
King David of Israel, wrote this: “He gives snow like wool . . .” (Psalm 147:16). Wool is used to make warm coverings. Snow, like wool, covers the ground to keep it warm.
Every human needs a spiritual covering – a blanket of purity – and only God can give it.
The whole Biblical thought about snow is brought to a conclusion by Isaiah. “Though your sins be as scarlet,” he wrote, “they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18).
Here’s the message of the snow:
Jesus will take your sins far away from you and leave you covered in a warm blanket of purity – you’ll be like newly fallen snow, unmarked, as if you’d never sinned at all.
The memory of this golden night on the ski trails at Hiawatha, one of my life’s perfect moments, clings to me. We weren’t the best skiers out that night, my darlings and I, or on any night after that, but, where others limped home chilled to the bone, we limped pleasured to the core by God’s amazing gift of creation.
Will you open your heart to God’s hidden treasures in the snow?
Rose McCormick Brandon is the author of many articles and several books, including One Good Word Makes all the Difference and Promises of Home – Stories of Canada’s British Home Children. Her books are available here.