White Easter

Yesterday morning, as I shuffled through the cold between my car and the main entrance of my office, I noticed a white flake or two floating out of the sky. Possibly my imagination, after all, spring has begun.

Yet, I saw another flake... then another. Shivering, I realized it was cold enough to snow. As much as I love winter, it is April. I am ready for warmer weather. What happened to the sunshine we had last week?

This is North Idaho, however. We really should expect this kind of thing. Four years ago, Bekah and I planned an April 5th wedding, assured that we would have nice enough weather for outdoor pictures. Nature disagreed and we woke up on the morning of our wedding to find a thin layer of wet snow, no outdoor pictures for us.

An inch of frozen precipitation on the 2nd of April, ridiculous. I guess we are getting more bang for our buck this winter.

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When I was little, I couldn't wait for snow to fall. Walking to (or from) school was a short walk. The trip between home and Pinewood Elementary rarely took more than ten minutes. A good snowfall, to my parent's dismay, could stretch that ten minute walk into an hour. With only a couple of inches on the ground, I created a softball sized snowball to roll home. Of course, it only started out the size of a softball. Hunched over, and sometimes crawling on all fours, from the moment I crossed the cross walk, I rolled that little snowball, watching it grow as more snow stuck. By the time I reached my house the snowball was now a boulder, nearly as tall as I was.

Soaking wet, cold, but possessing a joyous smile that could only be found on the face of a mischievous 2nd grader, I went inside to greet my panicked mother. "Mom, Mom, look what I made."

Crisis of the missing child over, my mom did what any sane parent would: scold and laugh. Or maybe she laughed, then scolded me. I can't remember which she did first. Some one wrote and published the story of my snowball, using me as an example of the faith of a child that is too often lacking in the Christian community.

As we approach the Easter holiday with Christmas like weather, I look back at that snowball fondly. Snow has long been a symbol of purity, so having snow fall so close to Easter is a fitting reminder that our sins have been purchased by blood, so that we may be white as snow. Looking back, that snowball could easily represent more than a childlike faith, but also a reminder of that stone that was rolled away to leave behind an empty tomb.

Maybe a fresh layer of snow would be the perfect way to celebrate Easter. We could build a massive snowball, and roll that "stone" away. It might make the Easter egg hunt a little more interesting, but I've never understood what hiding eggs has to do with a risen saviour anyways.

So sing with me, you know the melody: "I'm dreaming of a white Easter..."