How to love winter (even if you don’t)
No matter where you side on the debate of the 1944 Christmas classic “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” (and the debate is on whether or not the flirtatious ditty is or is not suggestive of date rape), the following is not debatable: baby, it IS cold outside.
Here on this snow-covered morning, I sit at my computer in front of a wall of windows that face East. The sun has not yet risen on a cloudless sky. As I look up, an airplane some 30,000 feet off the ground blazes west. Sliding higher through each window pane, the plane itself is barely a dot. It’s white tail, however, is beautiful.
I say out loud, “I want to be on that plane.”
Then I realize I can’t be on THAT plane. It would have to land at the nearby airport just for me, and I wouldn’t want to meet the expressions on the faces of the passengers I inconvenienced.
So, another plane then. That is the next logical thought.
Then, as a land lover, I am reminded of what my [pun-intended] roots always reveal. I want to stay where I am—on the ground.
This, of course, brings me to winter, which, as I still look out my window, is where I am now. Just like the plane above, God is here in this beauty below and around me. While I do love skyscapes from the window seat of an airplane (and, in these views, I know heaven is close and God is closer), this is true for me: I am much better on the ground.
Now, speaking of the ground, I was out with the Troops last night. If you remember last week’s column (the one about finding the empty beer can), you know we take the same path each time we trek.
A moment of crystalline beauty happened on this venture. As always, there is one point on the journey where we cross a tiny creek. l looked to my left at the perfect time. In the water’s reflection, I noticed clouds parting. Suddenly, the moon’s glow shimmered on the rolling, bubbling waves. Spikes of ice lined this view. Nothing prettier, more tranquil, or more obvious than God at work could be experienced.
Love winter, even if you don’t. Diamonds glisten in the snow. Drifts of a million crystals make visible the work of invisible wind. Pure white covers everything in a blanket called something new.
This winter love is not impossible for summer flip-flop wearing fans. See what God has created. It’s awesome.
Nehemiah 9:6 says, “You are the Lord, you alone. You have made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them; and you preserve all of them; and the host of heaven worships you.”
The last part of the verse is just as it seems. It says those in heaven with God (i.e. angels) also enjoy creation.
Unlike the song I mention at the start of this column, let’s not debate this. Whether you’re at 30,000 feet above ground or not, let’s meet those angels in our appreciation. Enjoy creation.
Because it is cold outside, snow fans like me are still smiling from this past weekend’s white out. We welcome more company.
This blog first appeared in The Susquehanna Independent on January 23, 2019.