The kids went back to school at 10:00 am this morning, as they happen to attend one of the few schools that opened their doors to students today, and I’m glad. Our family has had enough of the unusual this month, with my recovery from surgery and all that has come with it. We need some normalcy in our lives, and three inches of snow in Georgia will never be normal. We need a return to routine, and school on a Friday is part of that.
But that snow . . . it came at just the right time. Not for most, perhaps, but for me. And while I feel terrible for all those people who couldn’t get home to their families, and all those families who couldn’t get in touch with their loved ones, and all those loved ones who were hungry and tired and scared and cold . . .
That snow . . . it made me glad. I watched it fall, softly and silently covering the ground in white, and I was so glad.
I have had a lot of time to think this month. A lot of time spent on chairs and couches, while the world circled around me and I waited to heal. All that thinking has been eye opening. When you’re busy – driving carpool and cleaning toilets and preparing meals and shopping for groceries – you don’t think much about your heart. You think about getting things done. You think about what time you have to be where and which items you need to buy at Publix and when you’re going to squeeze in a workout. Your mind is so occupied by the motions your body is going through that you don’t have time to examine what’s going on in your heart.
But my body couldn't be busy this January. It had to be still. And because I have amazing people in my life who loved me enough to help me, my mind didn’t have to think about carpool or cleaning or groceries. My mind has been focused on my heart, and in turn, my eyes have been opened.
My heart is filthy.
My heart is greedy and jealous and prideful and angry. It’s mean and selfish and impatient and judgmental. I want too many things from too many people. I’m mad when things don’t go my way. I expect too much, complain too much, fear too much, hate too much.
My heart is covered in sin and dirt and stains. I’m bleeding out.
No one can possibly fix the mess that is my heart right now.
No loyal husband or loving children or wise friend can do a thing to clean up this heart of mine. It’s dirty and damaged and disgusting.
You see, that’s what I’ve been thinking. That's all I've been thinking.
Then, the snow began to fall. It fell all over the deck and all over the backyard and all over the neighborhood. There was white everywhere, covering everything. And as I sat there watching the snow come down, thinking about my heart, I remembered . . .
There is one who washes away the dirt. There is one who cleans the filth. There is one who knows the depths of my heart and wants to inhabit in anyway, so he can chisel away the gross and the grime and someday . . . get down to the goodness that lives there because he does.
The snow? It can make anything beautiful. It can take a bunch of bare trees and change them into an enchanting forest of ice. It can conceal the blackest asphalt, making it an exquisite path. Snow can take an ordinary day, and turn it into a picture of peace.
And the one who made the snow? The one who can make ALL things beautiful? He can take the worst heart . . . he can take my heart . . . and transform it.
That makes me glad.
“Come now, says the Lord: though your sins
are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow . . ."
Isaiah 1:18
