The sundial, the bird feeder, the last footprint from this morning… gone.

The snow falls fast and furious and you can’t keep up so you’re forced to stop and let it be.


It is beautiful. But sometimes you can’t bear the weight of it all.

Some things bend when the wind whips up and the snow pounds hard.
Some things even break, never to be put back together.


It doesn’t matter what the groundhog’s shadow said. It doesn’t matter how much time the calendar says there is until the ground is right soft again. You’re hemmed in winter white.

It’s a long road to to spring.

Today there is no sprig of green.
Today there are no brave birds buffeted about in a blizzard.
It’s a cold white mess. Sort of like my faith. Sort of like my hope.

Hardly fitting-neatly-in-a-box, these two.


Hardly neat and all lined up in a row,  these two.


Mostly wrinkled and crumpled and wrestled, they are. The hard work of living by faith is not for the faint of heart. It’s heart-to-heart combat. It’s fixing the eye on the Truth. There is sweat involved. Sometimes blood.

Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day.


Faith, love and hope are a tangled weave of prayer and giving and waiting waiting waiting for a springtime promise.


Because not everyone is listening.
Not everyone is thankful.
Not everyone is compassionate.
Not everyone wants to hear they need redemption.

It is here that hope can go quiet like a snowy winter’s day.
And it is here that I’ve grabbed hope by the throat whispering, I will not give up. I will never let you go.

This is only possible if Jesus is all you have.

And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.

 All my hope and faith is contained in Jesus and I will not let go because He will not let go of me.


Hopelessness is just another form of forgetfulness.

We forget that we have a destiny beyond our wildest dreams.
We forget that we’ve been made for a purpose.

We simply forget that we are deeply loved.

When it is the winter of our soul we can forget that there is a glorious spring being woven into our future.

Purify me from my sins, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.


How is it when I am forgiven and washed as white as the pure driven snow, that my true colors, who I am meant to be comes forth?  Jesus, his blood red color pouring out of Him for me? To be whitewashed forgiven only to live in the glorious color of a forever Spring?

How brilliant is this. How utterly and beautifully hopeful.


Let it snow.
Let it be.

One thought on “Whiteout

  1. Grabbing Hope by the throat.a violent action.whispering “I’ll never give up” a powerful response. Thanks Mits I love you


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