For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out of my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
(Isaiah 55:10-11 NRSV)
We were in the mountains when the snow fell. It began with large flakes, flakes so heavy they didn’t drift and float, but fell straight down, as if in a hurry to get to the ground.
Truth be told, I become a child again when snowflakes start falling. I can stand at the window, watching the floating, drifting flakes, and I am filled with wonder by the fact that, like people, no two snowflakes are alike.
It seems to me to be proof that God loves His children, and knows that we are all children at heart. Somewhere, deep down in whatever sophistication we hide behind, we are delighted by a falling snowflake – a unique gift that cannot be duplicated.
I am realistic enough to acknowledge that snow can be a dangerous beauty, that we need to respect it, and I freely admit that the older I get, the more I respect it! I don’t want to fall and crack my noggin! So, these days, I tend to enjoy it through a window decorated with icicles hanging from the eaves.
We Americans tend to think of the Holy Land as desert country, with occasional oases strewn about, which to some extent is true. But it does snow there, especially in the mountains, and it’s a wondrous thing to see!