Treasures in the Snow by Rose McCormick Brandon

We glided on the groomed trail, our skis squeaking on the snow. Under the stars on this clear and frosty night, we were caught in a Christmas card moment. Pine trees trimmed with white bordered the trail. Branches swept downward in a graceful arc and crowded us into single file. We huffed up the hills, my three children climbing easier and huffing less than I, and glided thankfully down their other sides.

Our cheeks rosy with health, we occasionally stepped off the path to let others whiz by, sacrificing our momentum for courtesy. One man, a scowl on his face to show he was in earnest about this skiing business, groaned when he passed us on a straight patch. I wonder if he sees the trees, I thought. Or the stars. Does he recognize the snow under his feet as a gift from a Creator with a universe full of design to his credit? Can he read God’s message to him in the aroma of pine, in the moon that makes shadows dance around us, in the untouched snow to our left and right that covers a naked and embarrassed earth with its blanket of purity?

An ancient, man, Job, was asked this question by God, “Have you entered into the treasures of the snow?” He meant, “Do you get it? Do you get the message of the snow?” (Job 38 is a magnificent piece of writing.)

King David of Israel, wrote this:  ^"He gives snow like wool . . ." (Psalm 147:16).  Wool is used to make warm coverings. Snow, like a woollen coat, covers the ground. Every human needs a spiritual covering – a blanket of purity. Everyone who asks receives one. 

Isaiah brings the whole of Biblical thought on snow to a conclusion. “Though your sins be as scarlet,” he wrote, “they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18).

Here’s the message of the snow:

Jesus will take your sins far away from you and leave you covered in a warm blanket of purity – you'll be like newly fallen snow, unmarked, as if you’d never sinned at all.

The memory of this golden night on the ski trails at Hiawatha, one of life’s perfect moments, clings to me. We weren’t the best skiers out that night, my darlings and I, or on any night after that, but when others limped home chilled to the bone, we limped pleasured to the core by God’s amazing gift of creation.

Rose McCormick Brandon lives in Caledonia, Canada with husband Douglas. Her book, One Good Word Makes all the Difference is available at http://writingfromtheheart.webs.com. or by contacting the author at: rosebrandon1@yahoo.ca

A "Very Good" World-by Heidi McLaughlin

 “OK my darlings – what’s it going to be,” I challenged, “shall we take the cable car or lace up our hiking boots?” Eyebrows went up and down as we stood in a circle staring at each other.  My husband Jack, my daughter Michelle, my son-in-law Tim, and my son Donovan were standing at the base of Mount Wengen, one of the most picturesque mountains in Switzerland. While this adventure had been researched for over a year, we didn’t expect this commanding, green giant to be so intimidating. Finally Michelle broke the silence, “You know what, I don’t think I feel up to the hike. Tim and I will take the cable car and meet you at the top.”  A decision was made. Tim and Michelle off to the train station while Jack, Donovan and I (Heidi) bent down to lace up their hiking boots.

The first half hour of our excursion revealed a backdrop of lush alpine meadows awash with a carpet of flowers that turned into beautiful panorama of rugged, majestic mountains.  Our conversation consisted of superlatives trying to fathom and express the vastness and magnificence of God’s creation.  Every hundred feet or so, we stopped to wipe the sweat from our faces and share another rich discovery.

“Over there-see Staubach Falls cascading down the side of the mountain like a twirling corkscrew.”

It was magical! As we climbed higher and higher up the mountainside trail we saw the world from a different perspective. It all seemed clearer, slower, and calmer. 

Worries, deadlines and expectations evaporated.

By the time we saw the sign WENGEN VILLAGE our clothes were soaked with a salty, grimy perspiration. But we were elated, and deliciously exhausted.  Trying to squeeze one last drop out of our water bottles, we high fived and headed into the village, back to reality.

 We found Tim and Michelle in a colourful friendly café leisurely sipping away on a rich, Swiss coffee. “Hey, how was your cogwheel railway climb?” We asked. “Fine”, they both echoed.”  Now they wanted to know, “How was your trek up the mountain?” “It was very good,” was all I could muster up, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” 

How do you explain a glimpse of heaven-a visit into an idyllic time warp that would lose its magic if we tried to put it into human words?

In the book of Genesis when God finished creating our magnificent world He said. “God saw all that he had made, and it was very good” (Genesis 1:31 NIV).

“Very Good?”

 My hike up Mount Wengen allowed me to capture a tiny, fleeting glimpse behind God’s words of “very good.” If God says that our creation is only very good, I can’t begin to comprehend what heaven will be like.

I’m glad I chose the long, hard hiking trail. How many times have I missed God best for my life simply because I was not willing to bend over and lace up my hiking boots?  God’s wants us to experience all of His “very good” in our lives. Why not stop today and take a moment to thank Him for creating something that is so very good. 

Heidi McLaughlin lives in the beautiful vineyards of the Okanagan Valley in Kelowna, British Columbia. Heidi has been widowed twice. She is a mom and step mom of a wonderful, eclectic blended family of 5 children and 12 grandchildren. When Heidi is not working, she loves to curl up with a great book, or golf and laugh with her family and special friends.

Her latest book RESTLESS FOR MORE: Fulfillment in Unexpected Places (Including a FREE downloadable Study Guide) is now available at Amazon.ca; Amazon.com, Goodreads.com or her website: www.heartconnection.ca

Writing as Worship

Why do you write? Because the characters won't leave you alone? Because it's your favorite way to be creative? Because someone needs the message you have been given? Because you don't want to waste the talents God has given you?

How about this: because writing is an act of worship?

For a Christian, worship is an expression of reverence and adoration for God. Is this reflected in how and why you write? Let me explain.

I write fiction by the seat of my pants. I have very little (read: no) idea what will happen until the words form from my fingertips. Sometimes I stop and stare at the computer monitor when some strange bit of motivation comes to light, or the plot does a 180. Huh, I think. So that's where the story is going.

This process is both terrifying and exhilarating. I'm on my 23rd manuscript — what will be my 16th published work when it releases in August — and I have absorbed, somewhat by osmosis, the pacing necessary for contemporary romance. Somehow it always comes together.

Trust me. I would plot if I could, but there is a big black nothing at the end of my feeble flashlight beam. I'm fairly organized in Real Life™. I expected to be fairly organized in my writing.

God knew me better than that. God knew that if I had the ability to plot, I might become smug. Full of pride, even. "See this book? It's pretty good, huh? I wrote it."

By the simple act of holding the gift of plotting beyond my reach, God made sure I'd remember that it's not all about me. I don't write good books because I'm so talented. I write good books because, every single day, I struggle to find where the story needs to go next. Every single day, I depend on Him.

I used to ask God to bless my writing and use it for His glory, like some kind of Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval. I craved this little gold star. A little pat on the head. A little thank you from God for a job well done. See? I did something for God and He likes it!

My daily prayer is so different now. I have become aware — maybe we call this maturity? — that God does not actually need me to do specific things so He can accomplish His will here on Earth. I am not the key. He can do it without me. He can do it without you. He's God. We're not.

But He wants us. He doesn't need us, but He wants us.

Now when I sit at my computer in the morning and reread the last scene in preparation for today's writing, my prayer is different. It's more like this.

"Lord, here we are today. You and me, together. What do You want to teach me through today's writing? I'm honored to create something with You, the eternal Creator. With You, not for You. I can't thank You enough for the opportunity to reach into people's lives. Those readers You're inviting to this story — what do they need, Lord? What does this story need to say to them from You? What do my characters need to say and think and do to make this story resonate with Your message? Lord, thank You. Please guide my fingers, guide my mind, to create this story for your glory. In Jesus' name, amen."

And as I align myself with God's vision every morning, I begin to type. To record the story that unfolds in front of me. To write as an outpouring of worship.

Am I perfect at this? Uh… no. But I am learning that the most important story relationship is the one between God and me. If I am sharing His words as I type, He will find the readers to share them with, whether they be few or many. It's His story to do what He wants with. My job is to honor Him by faithfully acting as His conduit.

How about you? Is writing an expression of worship for you?

Valerie Comer's life on a small farm in western Canada provides the seed for stories of contemporary inspirational romance. Like many of her characters, Valerie and her family grow much of their own food and are active in the local food movement as well as their church. She only hopes her creations enjoy their happily ever afters as much as she does hers, shared with her husband, adult kids, and adorable granddaughters.

Valerie writes where food meets faith and fiction in her Farm Fresh Romance series and Riverbend romance novellas. Visit her at ValerieComer.com.

Treasures in the Snow by Rose McCormick Brandon

Hiawatha Trails, Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario

Gliding on the groomed trail, our skis squeaking on the snow, under the stars on a clear and very cold night, we were caught in a Christmas card moment. Pine trees trimmed with white bordered the trail. Their branches sweeping downward in a graceful arc crowded us into single file. We huffed up the hills, my three children climbing easier and huffing less than I.

 

Our cheeks rosy with health, we occasionally stepped off the path to let others whiz by, sacrificing our momentum for courtesy. One man, a scowl on his face to show he was in earnest about this skiing business, groaned when he passed us on a straight patch. I wonder if he sees the trees. Or the stars. Does he recognize the snow under his feet as a gift from a Creator with a universe full of design to his credit? Can he read God’s message to him in the aroma of pine, in the moon that makes shadows dance around us, in the untouched snow to our left and right that covers a naked and embarrassed earth with a pure blanket of snow.

 

An ancient, man, Job, was asked this question by God, “Have you entered into the treasures of the snow?” He meant, “Do you get it? Do you get the message of the snow?” (Job 38 is a magnificent chapter.)

King David of Israel, wrote this:  ^"He gives snow like wool . . ." (Psalm 147:16).  Wool is used to make warm coverings. Snow, like wool, covers the ground to keep it warm.

Every human needs a spiritual covering – a blanket of purity - and only God can give it.

The whole Biblical thought about snow is brought to a conclusion by Isaiah. “Though your sins be as scarlet,” he wrote, “they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18).

Here’s the message of the snow: 

Jesus will take your sins far away from you and leave you covered in a warm blanket of purity – you'll be like newly fallen snow, unmarked, as if you’d never sinned at all.

The memory of this golden night on the ski trails at Hiawatha, one of my life’s perfect moments, clings to me. We weren’t the best skiers out that night, my darlings and I, or on any night after that, but, where others limped home chilled to the bone, we limped pleasured to the core by God’s amazing gift of creation.
 

Will you open your heart to God's hidden treasures in the snow?

 

****

 

Rose McCormick Brandon is the author of many articles and several books, including One Good Word Makes all the Difference and Promises of Home - Stories of Canada's British Home Children. Her books are available here.