As White As Snow

Snowmaggedon, Snowpocalypse, and Snowtastrophe are terms I’ve heard that mash the word “snow” with words of destruction; an attempt to convey a sense of calamity caused by snowstorms. When “winter storm warning” flashes across the television screen, people get a little bit wacky. Don’t believe me? Just go to your local grocery store. Black Friday pales in comparison.

I don’t need to watch the weather forecast to know of impending snowstorms. Bread flying off the shelves at the grocery store tells the tale. I feel compelled to take a loaf, just in case, though I don’t eat bread. Surely only bakers and dairies look forward to blizzards; a snowfall means a windfall for them.

“You’ve never seen a real winter,” I tell my children. They roll their eyes in response, knowing they’re going to hear the same story I tell them every winter.

“Winters were worse when I was your age,” I continue, undaunted by their mockery. “It started snowing in the fall and didn’t stop until the middle of spring.” To drive home the point I add, “We missed school for weeks at a time.”

As I get older it’s strange how the memories of snow storms from my childhood become worse. I suspect that snowstorms are like catching fish; they both grow a few inches in the retelling. My kids think I grew up in the ice age, lived in an igloo, and rode a woolly mammoth to school, which isn’t far from the truth as memory serves.

Snowstorms mark history.

“Remember the blizzard of 09?” someone will ask while we stand in the checkout line with our bread and milk.

Everyone shudders and nods their heads, and then the finer details of the calamity emerge. Soon we’re recounting the major storms of the past.

Don’t forget the storm of 93,” I’ll remind the listeners, and they grumble in remembrance.

I explain that it was the spring break of my senior year in college. I left class on Friday, eager for a week of spring break. A few flakes started falling, which turned into one of the worst snowstorms I’ve ever seen. I spent spring break holed up at home without power and my car buried in the snow. The roads cleared just in time to return to school after break.

“Worst spring break ever!” I proclaim.

The listeners nod in sympathy over my tale and then proceed with their own experiences during that blizzard, each tale worse than the previous one.

Of course, someone reaches farther back. “Then there was the storm in the spring of 87!” Expressions indicating flashbacks appear on people’s faces, obviously a storm we all tried to forget. However, the cloudy memories make for some tall tales!

“I’d better go back for another loaf of bread,” I proclaim after hearing such horrific tales. I give up my place in line to fill my shopping cart with more staples to survive the storm. A few poor souls follow my lead; we’re not letting another storm catch us by surprise.

But snow, with all the headaches it causes, has a certain allure. There is nothing more beautiful than a pure white blanket of snow on the ground and gently falling snowflakes. Snowmaggedon becomes a winter wonderland. Surely Isaiah had this in mind when he wrote in Isaiah 1:18, “Come now, and let us reason together, says the LORD, though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow, though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool.”

Sin is lethal and destructive, like a storm or blizzard. But God forgives. He cleanses your sin and will make you as pure as snow. He will turn certain doomsday into eternal bliss. Come to Him and seek forgiveness. Enjoy the beauty of purity that only Christ can offer when he washes you as white as snow.

This story appears in my book, "Sunday Dinner." If you enjoyed this story then please pick up a copy of my book. You can order one by contacting me at my e-mail address or find my page "Shadowlands Art Studio" on Facebook and message me. - RJ Rose