A Winter Devotional

Large, fluffy white flakes swirl slowly to the ground in a gentle, choreographed waltz. Safe and warm inside my house, wrapped in a cozy blanket on the velvet couch, I watch in silence through the huge front window as everything becomes white. The world, time itself, lessens its pace to match the cadence of the first true snowfall.

This is my favorite devotional. The quiet moment when I breathe easier than any other time. Here I feel more grounded than any other place as I watch the hypnotic dance of the falling snow.

Memories nestle safely upon each spinning flake, calling out to me as they tumble from heaven to earth. In this quiet moment I can clearly remember being small and feeling the wonder that winter brings. The freshly fallen snow sparkles like glitter in the pale light, reminding me to believe in the magic I saw as a child.

In those days, snow could become whatever I dreamed. We built forts to play in and friends to whisper our secrets to.

In those days, snow transformed mountains and hills into the next great adventure. Armed with tubes, sleds, and toboggans we'd race downhill for hours, never feeling the cold until it was time to walk home.

In those days, snow turned roads into dangerous ice sheets. A reassuring smile from Dad would melt away my fear and turn it to laughter as he’d spin the car in donuts.

In those days, snow offered a soft, pillowy blanket over everything. Trusting it to catch us, we'd spread our arms wide and fall backwards to leave angels in the banks.

In those days, snow tickled our tongues with its sweetness. We'd stand outside with our mouths open wide catching wispy, white flakes on our tongues.

In those days, falling snow sounded like jingle bells and children's laughter. I believed in things I could not see but felt deeply in my heart.

But snowstorms pass, frosty melts, and the magic of childhood is swept away in the fallacious rush to reach the perceived freedom of adulthood. I barely think of those days as I focus on the ever building list of must-do's. But today, the heavens open, pouring out feathery white flakes and inviting me to sit a spell, just breathe.

Today deadlines no longer matter. “Just be safe out there,” strangers whisper understandingly to each other.

Today everything is equalized. White upon white hides all imperfections around us.

Today heroes show up in the most unlikely places. Teenage boys with snow shovels flood the streets and band together to push cars loose from deep snow banks.

Today everything quiets down. The hustle and bustle, all the noise of life is dampened by a thick layer of frozen insulation.

Today simple blessings stand out starkly against the chill. I thank God as the furnace dutifully roars to life.

Today I lay down the stresses of work, motherhood, marriage, and obligations that have piled up this year. I bury them in the snow where they will melt away in the Spring.

All too soon, the snow will stop falling and the spell will be broken. This moment of reverie will pass.

Tomorrow, streets and sidewalks will be cleared and neighbors become strangers once more.

Tomorrow, impatience will overpower kindness and concern.

Tomorrow, I won't have a moment to sit and enjoy the beauty of a white blanketed world.

Tomorrow, time will resume its normal pace as life passes in a whirlwind.

Tomorrow, I'll worry about the things that just don't matter right now.

Tomorrow will come too soon.

So, today I sit at my window, wrapped in a cozy, warm blanket, and watch the flakes spin in their delicate dance. Here, I enjoy the quiet of the first true snowfall of winter. I remember. I breathe. I cherish. I let go. I thank God for the simplicity of this moment, my favorite winter devotional.