Freshly Fallen Snow

Even though winter is not my favorite season I do love watching it snow. Not that I like shoveling said snow or driving in said snow. I do like watching the cold, wet flakes make their way to earth. Then, when it is all said and done and the entire ground is covered with the wintery white blanket, I enjoy even more looking out into the yard at the freshly fallen snow. It is so fresh. So pure. So innocent.


Maybe because the snow is so untainted is why so many refer to it as “virgin snow”. The snow on the ground before the kids trample over it to make their snowmen. Or before your husband trudges across it to get to the snow blower. Or before the dog gets on it and changes it to yellow snow. (Which, by the way, you need to remind your two-year-old to never eat!) But the best part of the blanket of snow is how it glitters and sparkles in the sunshine.

That spotless snow reminds us of all of our own sins and how we can never be as chaste as that “virgin” snow again. None of us. Not one. It doesn’t matter if your sin has anything to do with your sex life. It can be any sin. No matter what it is. We are all guilty of not keeping ourselves clean. Pure. Innocent.

But one thing I have noticed about the winter snow is that even the dirty, sinful snow sparkles in the right light. That no matter what has happened to it. Plowed, shoveled, walked on or made into snowballs. All snow can glitter and sparkle. But none of it can unless the sun is shining on it.

Forget your past and your sins. God has. He has removed them as far as the east is from the west. Then let the Son shine on you.  HE can sparkle just like the snow--virgin or not.

Dating All Over Again

I feel like I am dating again. I spend most of my day rummaging around on the internet for one that might meet my needs. Might make me happy. Might measure up. I comb through the want ads hoping someone is out there that has what I want. I am consumed and overwhelmed with the entire searching process. In addition to my daily pursuit, I venture out every night physically searching. Looking. Hunting. Trying to find that perfect one. That one that I am willing to take home and make mine.


I may not be searching for a husband. This time I am looking for a replacement van. Nonetheless, the process seems very much the same. Search my options. Take several test drives. Then decide if I am willing to accept the imperfections before I sign on the dotted line. The only difference that I have found is that it only takes a key to turn on the van.

Finding a van may not be as painful as choosing the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with, but is still a considerable amount of hard work. We have been looking for a van for more than two weeks with no avail. I look online, find some that meet our criteria, and call the dealership to see if they still have it on their lot. When Matt gets home from working all day we immediately leave to take them for a spin. We haven’t had a meal at our table since Christmas day. By the time we get home we put the kids to bed. Then we pray that the next day will be better. That we find the one we are supposed to have.

We aren’t even being that picky. It must run and hold all six of us. Simple as that. Of course, we would love to have all the latest gadgets and devices but we would also like to not have to finance this vehicle.

At this point I am just exhausted with looking. I don’t want to see one more ad, one more salesman, one more van. At this point I am almost willing to take whatever I come across next. At this point I think I will just walk everywhere with a stroller or two and forget getting a van altogether. But at least I am not back at the bars scooping out prospective mates while I drown my sorrows in yet another beer.