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

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. 

 

 

Flying High — den Boer

A cold sunny Sunday afternoon found Marty, myself and our two middle children, Paul and Michelle, cross-country skiing at the local golf course. We kept our heads down into the wind as we skied across the rolling landscape toward a tobogganing hill Michelle had discovered several days earlier. She led us to the crest of this giant hill where we stood anticipating a long exhilarating run, possibly right to the distant woods.

“You go first, Michelle,” Marty said, thinking he’d give her the honour as this place was her discovery.

Michelle picked up the challenge, but took a tumble right in the middle of the slope.

Paul and Marty quietly discussed and pointed to the base of the hill as they patiently waited for Michelle to untangle herself. From under my wool hat I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Anyway, I really didn’t see the need for a discussion. It was a big hill. I could easily avoid Michelle. There was even a nice track several feet over from where Michelle had wiped out. I pushed off with my poles.

“Watch out for the ramps!” hollered Paul. His words blew away on the wind. I assumed he was yelling some kind of encouragement as I blindly followed the well-worn tracks down the slope. What a lovely hill! Then just as the ground started levelling out, I saw the ramp. It was a wide well-built ramp guaranteed to send any toboggan, sled or snowboard hurling through the air. I was within a ski length of this ramp when I noticed it. I was travelling too fast to bail out. It was too late to steer clear.

Now let me assure you, this 44-year-old woman is not a fearless wonder. I don’t do ramps—if I know about them. I don’t jump off diving boards or ride on roller coasters. Yet here I was flying through the air like Eddie the Eagle. I tried to line up my skis for a graceful landing, but to no avail. The tips of my skis overlapped and I ended in a jumbled heap on a patch of ice. That earned me some rather painful bruises on both knees and elbows.

...but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. 1 Corinthians 2:10.

Looking back, I see that I address life much as I approached that hill. Just as I didn’t see the need for a discussion with Marty and Paul about the hill; in life’s decisions, often I don’t wait for direction from the Holy Spirit. It’s not possible to be Spirit-led if you don’t listen. How can I even want what He wants without being in constant communication?

An excerpt from my book "Blooming"