An unusual thing happened today. It snowed. Which means that quite possibly for the very first time in my life I will experience a true “white Christmas.”
The snow began sometime between noon and 1, while my children were eating lunch. I was standing in the kitchen making sandwiches, and Trey asked if it was snowing yet. I looked out the window and could tell that although the precipitation was frozen, it was not yet snow. And then, all of a sudden, there it was. Big, fat, fluffy white snowflakes being driven across the yard by gusty north winds.
“God must be either crying or sweating,” Trey commented, using his childlike explanation for rain.
“But it’s Christmas Eve! Why would God be crying? This is the time we celebrate His Son’s birth, and I would think that would make Him happy,” I responded.
“Maybe it’s tears of joy,” Trey answered.
And that made me stop. Right in the middle of making a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, knife in hand. Looking outside and seeing the snow, I told him, “You know what? I like to think of this snow as confetti from heaven. God’s own ticker-tape parade to celebrate and announce the birth of His Son so everyone can celebrate with Him.”
My children smiled and were satisfied with that.
And I realized the power of that moment. I remember clearly the night my own son – my firstborn son – arrived. Though it wasn’t in a stable but rather in a crowded operating room with doctors and nurses and a NICU team on hand ready to assist if needed, I can remember the exceeding joy at seeing his precious face and mop of black hair for the first time…of hearing his hearty cry…of wrapping my arms around him and cradling his little perfectly formed body close to mine, watching him breathe and feeling his tiny heart beat. Quickly we shared the news with friends and family, and over the next few days we had a parade of visitors in and out of our little hospital room, coming to see this new life and dreaming with us of how this little one would change the world.
Two thousand years ago, God gave us the miracle of His son through human birth. This proud Heavenly Father was present in that very stable, His glory evident through the light of a mysterious star appearing overhead. He announced His son’s birth not with email or cell phones, but with the hosts of heaven – legions of angels singing together in a mighty, deafening chorus: “Glory to God in the highest!” And those few who visited this Child were forever impacted by the One who came to change the world.
So how fitting it is to have a “white Christmas.” The redeeming work of God’s Son, come to save us. To cleanse us. To make our sins “as white as snow.” To completely cover all our failings, our struggles, our faults, and make us pure and holy in God’s sight. A once-for-all act of sacrifice, that allows us hope of life eternal.
This year, I know I’m not dreaming of a “white Christmas.” It’s a reality, in more ways than one. And I know that because of the gift of salvation, my days will be merry and bright…and all my Christmases will be white.
Beautiful reflection!