Groundhog Day Blues
It's official. The groundhog did not see his shadow this morning, so according to folklore, we're going to have an early spring. How many times this prediction has been wrong or right, I don't know. By February 3 or 4, the whole thing is forgotten anyway, but the announcement of an early spring has always been bad news for me. While the rest of the world cheers on the coming of an early spring, I cry inside.
I can understand why people who live in the city cheer the coming of spring. In winter, it's cold, windy, and unpleasant. The grass is dead, the trees have no leaves, the wind whips around the tall buildings chapping the face and chilling fingers to the bone. On snowy days, the slush and ice make driving conditions deplorable. There are sidewalks to shovel, cars to warm up and mounds of winter clothes to wash. Hey, city folks, I don't blame you. Winter in the city is miserable.
Real winter in the countryside is another story, especially in the northern or mountainous regions where it stays cold enough for snow to stick. Winter sports abound: skiing, sledding, tobogganing and ice skating. There is nothing better than putting on a pair of ice skates and gliding across the pond with the winter wind kissing your face or the thrill of speeding down the hill on an icy toboggan run. Sitting in front of a warm fire or electric heater (if you aren't blessed with a fireplace) and warming your toes while you sip hot chocolate makes the experience even better.
In the South Carolina Blue Ridge Mountain foothills where I live, there is no sledding, no tobogganing, and no skiing. It just doesn't get cold enough for long enough. We feel blessed if we get any snow at all like we did yesterday. It was the first real snow in two years, and it was glorious. I gave my children the day off school and told them to have fun. It may be the only childhood memories they will have of real winter. Watching my children build snowmen, throw snowballs at their father and make snow angels reminded me of the winters I enjoyed as a child trudging through snow on the way to school, digging tunnels through 2 and 1/2 feet of snow and building snow houses that were in use for weeks.
To sum it up, winter to me means snow. Snow covers up the ugliness of winter, the decay and death that is all around us during nature's resting time. It reminds me that God has offered us forgiveness in Jesus Christ and that all of the ugliness of our sin can be blanketed by His goodness. Like children playing in the snow, forgetting every care of this world, we can delight in the righteousness and purity found in Jesus Christ. In Him, we have life, hope and joy.
Yes, I still secretly dread the early coming of spring, but it's not because I hate warm sunshine, flowers, budding trees and new life. It's because early spring means that another year will pass before we see another good snow.
I can understand why people who live in the city cheer the coming of spring. In winter, it's cold, windy, and unpleasant. The grass is dead, the trees have no leaves, the wind whips around the tall buildings chapping the face and chilling fingers to the bone. On snowy days, the slush and ice make driving conditions deplorable. There are sidewalks to shovel, cars to warm up and mounds of winter clothes to wash. Hey, city folks, I don't blame you. Winter in the city is miserable.
Real winter in the countryside is another story, especially in the northern or mountainous regions where it stays cold enough for snow to stick. Winter sports abound: skiing, sledding, tobogganing and ice skating. There is nothing better than putting on a pair of ice skates and gliding across the pond with the winter wind kissing your face or the thrill of speeding down the hill on an icy toboggan run. Sitting in front of a warm fire or electric heater (if you aren't blessed with a fireplace) and warming your toes while you sip hot chocolate makes the experience even better.
In the South Carolina Blue Ridge Mountain foothills where I live, there is no sledding, no tobogganing, and no skiing. It just doesn't get cold enough for long enough. We feel blessed if we get any snow at all like we did yesterday. It was the first real snow in two years, and it was glorious. I gave my children the day off school and told them to have fun. It may be the only childhood memories they will have of real winter. Watching my children build snowmen, throw snowballs at their father and make snow angels reminded me of the winters I enjoyed as a child trudging through snow on the way to school, digging tunnels through 2 and 1/2 feet of snow and building snow houses that were in use for weeks.
To sum it up, winter to me means snow. Snow covers up the ugliness of winter, the decay and death that is all around us during nature's resting time. It reminds me that God has offered us forgiveness in Jesus Christ and that all of the ugliness of our sin can be blanketed by His goodness. Like children playing in the snow, forgetting every care of this world, we can delight in the righteousness and purity found in Jesus Christ. In Him, we have life, hope and joy.
Yes, I still secretly dread the early coming of spring, but it's not because I hate warm sunshine, flowers, budding trees and new life. It's because early spring means that another year will pass before we see another good snow.
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