As I write this, the “drip, drip, drip” of melting snow off the eaves of our roof is sounding outside my window. My dog – the crazy one - is tiptoeing across the frozen yard, curious about the tiny prints left by the birds who feasted on the seed I scattered the other day. The sky is brilliant blue, and the winter wonderland is gradually disappearing. The remaining snow is blindingly white. A car driving on the frozen slush makes a loud crunching sound as it passes by. Tomorrow, the brown of the dead grass and the naked tree limbs will be fully exposed.

Forty-eight hours ago, I was geeking out over huge flakes falling from the sky. When the weatherman started talking snow a few days prior, I was giddy! Yes, we do get snow in our area, but it’s usually accompanied by treacherous road conditions with lots of ice and extended below-freezing temperatures – not exactly something to get excited about in a good way. This winter storm, however, was projected to be just a couple of lovely days of winter white. And so it was.

I had a couple of outings planned for those two days, but when the snow began to fall, I quickly rescheduled them. “Good,” I thought. “I’m trapped in my house. This will force me to tackle some indoor projects that I’ve been putting off. Cleaning out closets, organizing drawers, decluttering – fun stuff like that.” But no.

I couldn’t pull myself away from any window I walked by. I was mesmerized by the snowfall. Sometimes a thick downpour would spill from the sky. Then it would taper off to flurries.

I wanted a front row seat so I made one for myself. I scooted a recliner over to face the patio door, grabbed a hot cup of tea (#1 for the day), propped myself back with a warm blanket across my lap, and enjoyed the show.

I had refilled my birdfeeders the day before the storm arrived, but I always scatter seed in the yard when it snows. Hungry birds descended from the sky, searching for a free lunch. Even my cardinal buddy, whom I hadn’t seen in a good while, joined the party.

When my tea cup was empty, I walked into the kitchen for a refill and briefly considered my to-do list. “Nah…it never snows, and I don’t want to miss a thing!”

The dogs barked so I went to the front of the house. One of my neighbors was pulling her kids down the middle of the street in a red wagon. I watched them parade back and forth several times, and then I imagined them going inside to peel off boots, gloves, and layers of cold, wet clothes to enjoy cups of hot chocolate.

I wasn’t up for building a snowman, but I did feel the outdoors calling my name. I picked up the blanket that was lying in the recliner, prepped a second cup of hot tea, and sat in a chair on the patio. The snow, the birds, the quiet. What a gift.

As I sat all bundled up, I thanked God for this little interruption – no appointments, nowhere to go, and the peace of my little snow-covered corner of the world. I felt rich and loved and happy.

Didn’t touch those closets or drawers. Didn’t get around to decluttering. Accomplished nothing measurable. Wasted day?

Hardly. How about worshipful day? God presented me with a surprise opportunity to enjoy Him and His creation, and I jumped on it. Two days of just staring out the window or standing on the porch and thanking Him for His beautiful gift.

Today, it’s all melting. By tomorrow, the only evidence of the Great Snowstorm of 2025 (by North Texas standards) will be photos of kids with bright red noses building snowmen and videos of kids sledding down hills on cookie sheets.

The world moves by so quickly. When you have the chance to waste a day or two in worship, take it!

*****

“God’s voice thunders in marvelous ways; He does great things beyond our understanding. He says to the snow, ‘Fall on the earth,’ and to the rain shower, ‘Be a mighty downpour.’ So that all men He has made may know His work, He stops every man from his labor.” – Job 37:5-7