When Snow Falls

There is no element of nature so lovely and familiar to me as snow. To watch soft, white flakes drift quietly down in great clouds, to feel the rubbery impact underfoot, to almost hear the nothingness that accompanies the silent accumulation is like a tangible dream. It covers the familiar with a glittering white veil.

When I was young, snow was the inspiration for my poetry. It was diamonds sparkling along the road. It was a tiny celebration of Christmas. It was freedom from routine. It was lovely. Day or night, snow was a thing to be admired. It had no flaws.

If only I would see Christ with the same constant awe that I had for snow as a child--all beauty and fascination and wonder. But for Christ I have alternatives, things that receive my attention before Him, decisions made apart from Him, solutions disregarding Him.

Christ's disciples once asked Him what kind of person He considered great in His kingdom, and to answer...

Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them, And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.  (Matthew 19:2-4)

To truly love Him, to trust Him, to obey Him, I should love Him as a little child loves, seeing no flaws, no other help, no other interest. Of Christ, those things are all true. How am I seeing?