Pure as the Driven Snow

by Lynn Ludwick

Last month the weatherman came through with his oft-misspoken prediction of “snow on the valley floor.” I set aside my plans to clean house and pulled on layers of insulated clothing, then ventured out. The soft flakes hit my face, collected on my scarf and atop my hat. I love snow and I was happy.

This was the stuff of normal winter weather where I was raised in upstate New York. Those days hold only fond memories of sledding, ice-skating, snowball fights, and later, chilly but romantic strolls with handsome young lads. As an adult, I’m aware of other aspects of winter—sidewalks to shovel and slippery roads to navigate.

But that afternoon I was a kid again, enchanted by the gentle white mantle that transformed even the most meager dwellings into charming cottages. Weedy yards vanished, along with junk scattered about. Neighboring houses assumed a look of elegant importance. The ordinary world had turned into a fairy-tale kingdom.

A day or two later, however, the beauty and the magic no longer existed. Cars had created slushy ruts on the streets and brown spray curbside, while sparse untended landscaping poked through once more. Snowmen drooped in a slow-melt death stance. This fairy tale hadn’t had a happy-ever-after ending.

An afternoon walk lent no appeal, so I stayed inside and did the house cleaning I’d put off, then settled with a cup of coffee and a good book. Occasionally, however, I glanced outside and reflected on our recent weather. What had been pure and white had so quickly disappeared. That picture brought to mind God and His pure and perfect gifts sent from above—gifts of His love, grace, mercy and forgiveness. Then we mortals muck it up. And like a slushy street, the process is often disturbingly swift.

It was easy to think in terms of all those folks out there messing up, but thankfully the Lord drew my thoughts closer to home. He has sent His gifts to me, the fruit of the Spirit, for example—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Galatians 5:22-23) Then I add to the mix my sinful bent, and His fruit too often crops up in my life as rotting produce. My intention to be kind turns into a sarcastic remark. My patience flies out the door as I bark at someone not meeting my standards. My self-control disappears somewhere between one and ten pieces of chocolate. Etc. Sadly, the overriding quality of the Holy Spirit’s fruit of love lags behind. I put myself first, not considering the interests of others.

I’d clicked many photos of our winter interlude—scenes of those fairy-tale cottages, fence posts topped with wooly caps, trees “flocked” by nature. All scenes of beauty, pure and white. And I guarantee you, not one picture of a slushy street or a cinder-darkened snow bank will show up in my photo album. Hmm—if I don’t want to look at such yucky landscapes, how must my Lord feel when He views the landscape of my life?

Oh my! More heart issues to work on. Like snow, God’s good gifts are mine to use or abuse. In my own power, I’ll mess things up as badly as any city street a day or two after a snowstorm. But with His help through the Holy Spirit’s power and strength, I’ll be able to remain closer to the calendar-style landscape I love—pure, sparkly, and transformed.

“…wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” Psalm 51:7

“‘Come now, let us reason together,’ says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow…” Isaiah 1:18

Lynn Ludwick writes from Medford, OR. lynniegirl45@hotmail.com