“Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” Isaiah 1:8
Snow has always fascinated me. Probably because I have lived in Georgia for the greater part of my life, and interaction with that magical phenomenon was excluded to trips to Colorado, or the accidental flurries that the sky above my town deigned to release. When I realized our squad would be in Romania for the winter, my mind instantly flew to fantasies of icicles hanging from ledges, piles of white froth on the sidewalks, houses that look like they’ve been iced with sugar, and heavy flakes that fell supernaturally from the sky. I was disappointed, because while the weather was chilly and the sky was grey, the snow had been stubbornly absent from Craiova. That is, until yesterday night, when the sky finally broke it’s frown and flurries fell from heaven. When we woke up the next morning, there was only a thin, unimpressive layer, but I was ecstatic all the same. Snow.
Snow reminds me of salvation, how Jesus covers our insufficiencies and weaknesses, and problematic sinfulness with His grace. It falls so gently upon the waiting world, it discriminates not on which it will cover. Over our crimson stains of deceit and adultery, gluttony and pride, cruelty and selfishness, falls the fantastic miracle of mercy, brilliant, clean, and white.
My time in Romania closes along with the year of 2021, and I look back over the mistakes I’ve made with a twinge pity for my old self. Did I fully realize that those regrets would be covered in layer after layer of gentle grace? Why didn’t I give grace to myself, when it was so freely given to me? What I’ve learned in Romania is incredibly simple, something I’ve known all along but have never pictured as a part of my life. Love covers a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:7). The grey slush that is shoved to the edges of our brain- covered. The arrogance that we fight so hard to retain- covered. The complacency that lies limply like dead leaves- covered. All the dirt, all the muck, all the graffiti-splattered concrete- covered irretrievably by grace that does not melt or fade over time.
The pitiful snowfall of Craiova is long gone now, seeped into the damp earth of the parks, or shoved to the side of the highway in grey sludge. I’m not disappointed, because even more fantastic is the miracle I get to experience daily, that I actually get to tell others about. Thank you, Lord, for being so faithful.
Thanks for reminding me each day of
God’s continuing goodness and love of
our human weaknesses. You are our
precious granddaughter who grew up
wanting to do art at our kitchen counter!!
You are God’s precious representative and
we love you and miss you!! Ours prayers
are with you and your team every day. Take care and tell your team we are your
prayer warriors each day. Love you and
look forward to seeing you and praying
with you! Granmommie and Pappy Jack.
Thank you Ruth Ann for sharing about the snow covering Craiova and God’s grace covering us, gently falling, “upon the waiting world,” We pray for you and are thankful for all the grace He has brought to you and your team. We are eager to continue praying for you in you new home away from home.
Ruth Ann, We had ten inches of it in Tennessee this week. The views out the windows look like Narnia. With a fresh picture of how completely the snow truly covers everything, I have an even greater appreciation for God’s redemption, His salvation, the blood of Christ covering all my sin. And your blog is timely. Thanks for expounding on the analogy, the word-pictures, the reminders, the miracle.
(Sydnie’s friend. Praying for her and your squad as if she were my own. Blessings to you all during debrief and your travels this week.)