It Snowed!

It snowed in Huntersville in December! The last time it did so was 1997–twenty years ago!

The snow is good. It’s been fun to walk around in and no problem getting out to work, just getting a later start. It does change the landscape, but oddly this time as there are still lots of fall leaves still in place. It reminds me of a living Robert Frost poem, for I imagine “The Road Less Traveled” as an autumnal New England path dusted with snow, yet still vibrantly alive with the colors of fall. 

The snow is good, too, for it becomes a token of the season. So many of our songs, traditions, and decorations for Christmas build on snow—a winter festival needs winter trappings—but the clash of autumn leaves with winter snow keeps in focus the “now, not yet” quality of Advent. We wait. We watch. Our anticipation builds. But the world remains the world. Pain, suffering, and despair remain fixtures all around us—the autumnal dying. We want the freshness of snow—the freshness of hope. However, it is not realized. We wait. We watch. We wonder. That is the glory of Advent. It keeps in focus that we are a people of waiting and watching. We know Christ has come, but his kingdom is still far off. We wait for its resolution, but long for signs and seals. 

This season is one of children. They know how to wait, even if it nearly kills them. They learn the art of patient impatience. They simply ride the wave of anticipatory expectancy until the BIG DAY! We need that ability. We need that ability on a daily basis. We need it to deal with what we deal with routinely. Doing so allows us to become harbingers of hope. We can help others wait and see. We can act on the kingdom of God even as we wait for its full resolution. We can embody the promises of hope, peace, joy, and love each day in each encounter. We can allow expectation to replace anxiety. 

And we can know it is not seasonal—it is a stance we can keep and maintain always. It becomes a way of being in an uncertain and unstable world that counters the way of the world.

The snow covers and coats everything, but everything still remains as it is beneath the coat. There is a shroud of wonder over the ordinary stuff and clay of everyday. That is true for all of us.

Let that sink in and become defining for your outlook.

There is wonder all around us and within us.