Last night the wind howled like an angry lion, whipping snow this way and that ironing out footprints, animal tracks, and tire marks until the snow was as smooth as a frozen pond. Imperfections gone, rough patches removed, and ruts erased.
When the wintery white once again looked like icing on a cake–pristine and white–temperatures warm, and snow begins to melt. Icicles that hang like stalactites from the eves begin to drip. Snow and ice loosen their grip upon the roof, crackling and banging ensue as bits of cold slithers down shingles, landing in broken pieces below.
Lacey covering of white recedes and becomes muddy–dingy and brown. The newness gone and the barren ground exposed. But if another band of flakes descend from the heavens all will be made well again.
Might this be a picture of our lives? We come into this world a picture of perfection, but hidden beneath the delicate features of a newborn is brokenness. As we journey through life–joy, suffering, and grace unfurls. The suffering breaks away our rough places (sin), joy following on its heels. We see the grace in God’s perfect plan–repentance and renewal.