Good morning…
I read a shocking headline from fifteen hours ago: “73 Percent of the U.S. Covered in Snow, the Most Widespread Coverage in 17 Years.” Georgia, South Carolina, and Florida are the only three states in the lower forty-eight completely untouched by snow on The Weather Channel map. I’m disappointed Atlanta is left out of this sensational snowy mix.
Growing up in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio, we always loved snow days. Sleeping in and staying home from school. Pulling down the big box of hats, scarves, and mittens. Bundling up to brave the winter wonderland. Catching snowflakes on the tips of our tongues. Building snow forts with neighborhood friends. Throwing snowballs to dislodge large icicles. Walking down the middle of the abandoned street. Sledding on nearby hills. Ice skating on the frozen lake. Dressing up a whole family of snowmen. Laying down, fanning limbs, and admiring our snow angels. Red cheeks. Frozen nostril hairs. Seeing our breath. Bursting back inside, delightfully exhausted, chilled to the bone. Cozy hot cocoa, sweet melting marshmallows, and a huge pile of wet boots on the linoleum landing. A steaming bath, warming up slowly, and sleeping soundly when bedtime rolled around.
Snow days through my child’s eyes feel magical, marvelous, magnificent. The joy of childhood memory is unbundling the sights, the smells, and the sounds laying dormant inside me each time the snow falls. My internal boot tracks will always remain.
“As the snow and rain that fall from heaven do not return until they have accomplished their purpose, soaking the earth and causing it to sprout with new life, providing seed to sow and bread to eat. So also will be the word that I speak; it does not return to me unfulfilled. My word performs my purpose and fulfills the mission I sent it out to accomplish.”
For you will leave your exile with joy and be led home wrapped in peace (Isaiah 55:10-12a, NIV).
…Sue…
