Snowfall at Night
Rediscovering our childhood wonder...
Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up. Pablo Picasso
You know, I was planning to cover another topic in this post. Then something happened. It snowed.
Yes, a glorious blanket of white. It covered the neighborhood, inspired us to light the fire, and basically shut everything outside down for two days (truth be told, it was really only several inches of snow, but it doesn’t take much in Maryland!).
So what’s the big deal with a little snow? Good question. Last year, we got no snow of any note, and I was positively elated. That meant I didn’t have to attempt my long early morning commute on icy roads, surrounded by terrible snow drivers, and leaning on my own questionable skills.
But this time was different. I have no job, so I didn’t have to drive. I didn’t experience my typical dread the night before wondering if I was going to have to make that commute. Decades of stressing over that crazy drive, and the ancient trauma of flipping my car on black ice en route to work in Germany, it all melted away.
I woke up in the morning able to just appreciate the beauty. Yes, I was going to have go outside and shovel, but hey, I need exercise anyway, right?
Redeeming What Was Lost
Over the course of that snow day a strange but somehow familiar feeling was stirring in me. I recognized it from my past but couldn’t quite place it.
Night fell. I looked out the window and saw the snow falling again in the light of the streetlamp. Then, in that moment, the feeling crystallized.
It was joy. Not the way I usually experience it, with careful caveats, escape clauses, and rational fencing. No, the pure substance in all its glory.
It was the joy of a child. The joy of the child I once was long ago. This is a joy so strong, so powerful, that as I write these words I feel it welling up inside me, pounding in my chest, prompting tears to flow down my cheeks.
You see, when I was a boy, there was a streetlight outside my bedroom window. When it snowed and I was supposed to be in bed, I would watch the snow falling in that light. It covered the ground, slowly transforming the world into something new, something magical. I would go to bed full of hope that we might have off school the next day so I could explore that new world, romping and sledding and having fun with my friends.
I had long forgotten that memory, that delight. It had been covered up by overturned cars, busy schedules, adult responsibilities, hurts and losses and disappointments. A sight that long ago brought me joy had come to bring me only dread. What a tragedy.
But God didn’t forget. When the time was right, he brought out the gift once more and presented it to me. Receiving it as a little child, his little child, I knew the magic of sharing in the joy with him.
This experience brought me healing, and that I am convinced was God’s purpose all along. He delights in his children. He wants us to know his joy in all its power, not in carefully curated micro portions.
Finding Your Joy
Have you, like me, lost your sense of wonder along the way? Where do you think you might have misplaced it? What do you think – perhaps it’s worth going to have a look.
No, this wasn’t the topic I planned to cover. But sometimes joy has its own plans.
. . .
A Short Meditation
“Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD:
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool.”
Just as our sense of wonder gets buried under years of hard living, so too does our honest reckoning with our moral brokenness. It becomes second nature to put on our ‘good person’ face. But God sees the real us… and still loves us. Are you tired? Do you feel a need for forgiveness, for restoration? The Lamb of God’s blood stained the cross scarlet, that we might become pure as snow. We need only surrender to know this joy.
. . .
Un Petit Aperçu
Il a neigé l’autre jour. Tandis que j’admirais la beauté de la neige, un sentiment étrange m’a envahi. Au début, je ne me souvenais plus de ce que c’était. Finalement, je me suis rendu compte que c’était la joie d’un enfant. Quand j’étais petit, j’adorais la neige, mais j’avais perdu ce sentiment en grandissant. Par la grâce de Dieu, je l’ai retrouvé. Avez-vous, comme moi, perdu votre sens de l’émerveillement enfantin? Où pensez-vous l’avoir égaré? Peut-être il vaut la peine d’aller le chercher.
. . .
Μία Περίληψη
Χιόνισε τις προάλλες. Ήταν πολύ όμορφο και στην καρδιά μου ένιωσα κάτι παράξενο. Δεν μπορούσα να θυμηθώ τι ήταν. Τότε, συνειδητοποίησα ότι ήταν η χαρά ενός παιδιού. Όταν ήμουν αγόρι, μου άρεσε πάρα πολύ το χιόνι. Είχα χάσει όμως αυτό το συναίσθημα αφού μεγάλωσα. Δόξα τω Θεώ το ξαναβρήκα. Έχεις χάσει εσύ την παιδική κατάπληξη σου επίσης; Πού είναι νομίζεις; Ίσως αξίζει τον κόπο να ρίξετε μια ματιά.